islands in the sea
by pengiechan
Summary: If it had been up to him, Hubert would have picked anyone but Pascal to be stranded with on an island. But it wasn't his decision to make, and all he can do now is pray that both he and his heart get home in one piece. HubertxPascal, complete.
1. get out

**author's note: **I needed another ToG fic to work on like I needed a hole in my head, but sometimes you get an idea and know you're going to be sleepless and crazy until you write it. I know the setup for this particular story is a little contrived (or - dare I say it? - cliche) but I hope it's eventually going to be worth the read anyway. Most of this was heavily inspired by Futures' _The Karma Album_, specifically "Islands in the Sea," because my brain often does that thing where it focuses on a single song and creates an entire story around it and wow, I wish I could turn that off sometimes.

Enjoy!

* * *

_we got locked away_  
_on an island in the sea_  
_a place where we can dream about the good old days_  
_but we're almost home_  
_to a place where I can see_  
_where we can find our feet and all we see is gold  
_  
- Futures, "Islands in the Sea"

* * *

**islands in the sea**  
chapter one - _get out_

* * *

It starts innocently enough, with a knock on his door and the sound of a familiar voice that makes his heart nearly stop.

"Yahoo, Hu~"

"What in the world," he says, as he pulls the door to his office open and stares down at the figure of Pascal leaning there against the frame, a big grin on her face and something rolled up under one arm, "are _you_ doing here?"

"That's no way to greet somebody you haven't seen for two months." She wags a finger at him, and her grin only gets bigger. "Didya miss me?"

Of _course_ he missed her. "Not particularly," he answers, because he's good at lying, and watches her expression shift immediately into a pout. "The last time you showed up at the door to my office, it was because you had a ridiculous idea about implementing one of your inventions in Strahta. I haven't forgotten how _that_ turned out, with me doing all the work, and you ordering me around like a dog - "

"Can't you just let bygones be bygones? Sheesh." She frowns at him for just a moment, and then shakes her head, hard, as if clearing away her irritation. "Okay," she begins, and starts to grin again, "can I come in? I have something totally awesome for us to look at this time."

"... _us_?"

"You heard me. Soooo can I come in or are you gonna make me stand here looking like an idiot, huh?" He opens his mouth to answer with some variation on "you're doing a fine job of that yourself," because he just can't resist the urge to pick on her, sometimes, but before he can say a word she decides for him and parades into his office. "Shut the door," she calls over her shoulder, and practically skips to his desk, tossing down the thing that is rolled up under her arm. "This is top secret, just between you and me."

"Pascal..." He sighs, but shuts the door anyway, because if he's going to try to reason with her, he certainly doesn't need any curious passers-by hearing their conversation. "I am at _work_. You cannot simply barge into my office and interrupt me with one of your - ideas - "

"Too bad, toots. I just did."

"... toots?" he sputters. "Wh - _what_ - "

"Okay, knock it off with the hesitating and grumbling and being a total lame-o and get over here and look at this with me." She unrolls the thing on his desk, and from a distance he can see it's a map - a map of Strahta, that is, the country he knows like the back of his hand by now. This at least makes him curious enough to move to stand beside her, and when he is close enough, she jabs one finger at the bottom left corner of the continent. "Do you know," she starts, "about this place?"

He lifts an eyebrow. "The desert?"

"It's not just any desert. There are Amarcian ruins in this desert." Her eyes have lit up, and Hubert has to fight back the urge to groan, because over the course of the last two years that Pascal has been barging into his office in the presidential palace with hare-brained schemes that somehow never benefit him, nearly all of her ideas have involved Amarcian technology or ruins in one way or another. So he isn't surprised... but he is rather reluctant to listen to any more of this. "And," she continues, growing excited, "do you know what else is out here?"

"What?" he asks, completely disinterested, trying to figure out a graceful way to refuse her request. He is rather busy with work, and there's been a new surge of monsters in the Oul Raye area that he has been meaning to deal with - personally, of course -

"Islands," she answers, and at this he actually is interested. He blinks, raising both eyebrows, and bends to peer down at the map. There aren't any islands off the southern coast of Strahta that he is familiar with, nor are there any on the illustration, but before he can speak, Pascal keeps going, her voice dropping nearly to a whisper. "I was taking the ship out the other day, just for the heck of it, and when I flew over the coast, I saw them. There are like five or six islands down there, and one of them has a huuuuuge ruin on it. Even from a distance I could tell exactly what it was." She lifts her eyes to his, and there's a sparkle in them that makes his heart beat wildly; damn his apparently never-ending attraction to her, and damn her for being able to make him feel like a fool just by looking in his direction - "There's gotta be Amarcian technology down there, Hu," she says. "Undiscovered technology. And I _have_ to research it."

"Are you sure there are islands off the coast of Strahta...?"

"Absolutely, positively, four hundred percent sure. I circled around like fifteen times just to check. I even had Fourier come out with me to confirm it - y'know, 'cause she's way better with geography than I am." She nods, jabbing her finger at the map again. "I've gotta get down there. I may have stumbled on something totally wild, like buried treasure or secret technology, or even the secret to my ancestors, and why they moved out of Strahta to the enclave in the first place - "

"Alright," he stops her, holding up a hand, "I believe you. But why are you here?"

"Yeah, about that." She laughs nervously. "So... do you remember the last time I, um, borrowed you to check something out in Strahta? When we went out to the valkines?"

He remembers that quite well, because it had involved him saving her from a monster attack on the way back, followed by a trip in the sand that had sprained her ankle, and then he'd had no choice but to carry her on his shoulders for three miles through the wind and heat. She'd been nothing but apologetic and he'd pretended to be annoyed, but... He shakes his head to clear the memory, trying to focus. "What about it?"

"After that, the prez said I had to ask for his permission if I wanted to do anything in Strahta, 'cause he didn't want me causing any trouble for you or... um, well, probably just for you, I guess." She laughs again, reaching up to scratch the top of her head. "Anyway, I'm gonna ask if it'd be okay for me to go take a look at the islands. But I figure he'll want somebody to go along to make sure I stay out of trouble, and to report back to him on whatever it is that I find, right? Soooo..."

"... yes?"

"Sooooooo... maybe I was sorta kinda hoping that you'd volunteer to go with me?"

"No," he answers, immediately, and turns away from the map with a fluttering of his coat tails. She lets out a loud groan behind him, and he scoffs at the sound, pushing his glasses up on his nose with one finger. "Absolutely not. I have had enough adventuring with you for one lifetime. I have far too much to do here, and there is a monster problem in Oul Raye - "

"Oh, yeah, so about that." He can almost hear the smile in her voice. "I went through there on the way here, and they've actually got it almost completely taken care of. Captain was in the area, so we helped out a little bit. Burned most of those suckers right to the ground."

"... I - I see." He swallows. "Still, that does not lighten my workload - "

"Yeah, and... you're probably gonna be super duper mad, but... maybe I already asked the prez if he'd be okay with you going with me?" He whirls around, shocked, to see her twiddling her thumbs, her amber eyes fixed on the floor. "And maybe he already said yes?"

"_PASCAL!_"

"Oh, come _on_, Hu! You know I hate going places on my own, and you're the only one who ever wants to go anywhere with me!" She stomps one foot, still avoiding his gaze. "Asbel and Cheria are too busy with their baby to do anything, and Sophie's always hanging out with Richard watering flowers and doing royalty junk, and Captain's so busy flirting with chicks in every city that half the time he forgets to do his stuff for Fendel! There's nobody else left, and - and - " She stammers, suddenly, her voice dropping in volume. "... and I mean, it's not like you're my last resort, because I'd always pick you first over anybody else, but it seems like I always get you in trouble or make you mad, and I _hate_ bugging you, but..."

He stands in silence for a long moment, watching her closely, and almost immediately forgets to be angry with her. He does know the feeling, knows it quite well in fact. His brother and sister-in-law have been preoccupied with their newborn son, and Sophie and Richard have been spending quite a lot of time together, to the point that there have even been marriage rumors circulating in certain parts of Ephinea. And Malik... well, Hubert isn't going to spare any time thinking of what Malik has been doing, because it is of no concern to him. It does seem, sometimes, that in the two years that have passed since their journey, everyone else has found their place. He and Pascal, meanwhile...

More than anything, he doesn't want her to be alone. And as irritated as she makes him, sometimes, he still has feelings for her, feelings that have refused to leave him. When they are apart, he thinks he can be perfectly happy, but the moment that she barges into his office or arrives at the door to the Oswell manor, each time wearing a positively heart-stopping grin, he's reminded again of how desperately he wants to be by her side.

He really can't turn her down, he thinks. Not when she's staring at the floor of his office looking so sad. If it will give him a chance to be with her, even just for a few hours... well, he'll do anything, when it comes right down to it. Even something as ridiculous as looking for islands off the coast of Strahta that he's sure don't exist.

"If you've already made the arrangements with Mr. Paradine," he begins, slowly, and watches her eyes grow wide, "then I suppose I can clear up some time in my schedule to accompany you. But it must be no more than two days, because I am very, _very_ busy, and my position in the military - "

He gets no further, because that's when Pascal bounds over to him and throws her arms around his neck, hugging him so hard that he is physically incapable of breathing for a few seconds. "You are the _best_, Hu!" she exclaims, and he turns what is probably an embarrassingly bright shade of red, awkwardly reaching around her back to return the hug - well, sort of. He still doesn't quite have the hang of hugging. "I can't wait to go," she laughs, drawing back and smiling up at him in a way that makes him stupid and speechless. "We'll leave this afternoon, okay? So finish up here and go pack your stuff and meet me at the port when you're ready. I'll be in the ship waiting for you."

"P - Pascal," he stutters, "are you absolutely certain that you want to go looking for these... islands? Perhaps we should send a group of soldiers out on an expedition first - "

"Of course I wanna go, silly! And duh, Hu, they're_ islands_? It's not like you can send a bunch of guys out there on foot wading through the water trying to find them." She releases him from the hug, waving a hand at him. "We have to take the ship. Don't worry, it'll be totally safe. Okay?"

"I," he starts, and then sees that brilliant, beautiful smile on her face, the one that makes him weak in the knees, god help him, and can do nothing more but force out a hesitant, quiet, "okay." And she beams at him, reaches out to squeeze one of his hands, and then leans up to plant a kiss on his cheek before scooping up the map and dancing merrily out of his office, humming to herself the whole time.

Hubert watches her go, absently lifting a hand to touch his cheek, and once the door is closed and he's sure that no one is within hearing distance, he releases a loud sigh and collapses on the floor. He has no idea what he's getting himself into or what's about to happen to them, but as he stares at the ceiling with one hand still on his cheek, he thinks he would do anything she asked if it meant one more kiss like that.

* * *

A few hours later, Hubert is sitting by Pascal's side while she pilots an oddly familiar aircraft in the direction of the southern coast of Strahta, and as he leans back in his chair, absently watching clouds and scenery fly by below, all he can think about is how empty the ship seems with only the two of them in it.

It's been two years - a long two years - since he's been in the ship. At the end of their journey, when they'd all gone separate ways, Pascal had parked it somewhere in Fendel, apparently in some kind of underground bunker, if Captain Malik's words were to be believed. She'd come to visit him in Yu Liberte many times, but always on foot, and always on the way to or from some other destination. She'd been busy helping improve lives in the impoverished cities of Fendel for the first year, and then she'd moved on to other parts of the world. As she'd gone traveling around, Hubert had remained in Strahta, continuing his work in the military. They'd generally stayed the same, but everyone else...

Everyone else, he thinks, with a glance over his shoulder at the empty ship, has moved on. And here he sits by the side of the person he loves most, the person he's still unable to confess his feelings to, without moving an inch.

It hasn't been all bad, of course. By now he knows that she feels something for him - she's given him more than one peck on the cheek, after all, and several warm, rib-crushing hugs - but the extent of her feelings is entirely questionable, and the last thing he wants to do is express a romantic interest in her and be instantly rejected. He's so fond of the time that they spend together (even if it does usually get him in some kind of trouble) that the thought of losing it in the name of a confession, well...

He'd much rather suffer in silence, would much rather hold his tongue, than he would lose the chance to have those quick, probably meaningless kisses and wonderful hugs and brilliant, beautiful smiles.

"We're almost there, Hu," he hears her say, and snaps back to reality, lifting his head and looking out of the large window at the front of the ship. Below them he sees the edge of the continent disappear, and then there's nothing but ocean, deep and blue and spotted with the occasional ship sailing along to one port or another. He sucks in a breath at the sight - it's been a while since he's seen it - and hears her laugh, her eyes shifting to his for just a moment. "It looks totally different from up here, doesn't it?"

"It does." He manages a nod. "It's a rather startling reminder of how small we are..."

"Yeah, somethin' like that." She turns her attention back to the controls, a slight smile on her lips. "So are you ready to start exploring? We've got a lot of ground to cover, if what I could see from up here before was accurate..."

He peers at the ocean below them, watching as she slowly lowers the ship to a lower altitude; all he sees is water, and - Wait. His eyes widen, and he squints, reaching up to adjust his glasses, wondering if that tiny mark on the horizon in the distance is..._ land?_ "Pascal," he murmurs, "is that...?"

"I told you I wasn't making it up," she comments, and her smile widens. "We're close!"

He blinks, open-mouthed, watching as the mark becomes bigger, slowly begins to take the shape of an island. And beyond it he sees another pale patch of land, and another, and as Pascal brings the ship lower he counts them - seven in all, perhaps half a mile apart from each other, with one large island in the middle. They are all dotted with trees and have sandy shores, but the central body looks greener and denser, and in the center... "Hm," he murmurs, squinting again. "I believe I see the ruins you mentioned."

"Yup, right smack in the middle of the trees on that big one." She nods. "I'm gonna try to circle back around and land there, okay? There's a big patch of space on the eastern shore, so it should only be a short hike to - " A beeping sound interrupts her, and she stops mid-sentence, cocking her head to one side, blinking down at the controls. "... uh. Wha?"

"... what is it?"

"That's weird. I've never heard_ that_ noise before."

"... _WHAT?_"

"Oh, it's probably nothing. I mean, this can't be right." She straightens, laughing lightly, lifting one hand from the controls to gesture at the panel as the other steers the ship in a wide circle. "Given the fact that this ship is like, hundreds of years old, I'm willing to bet it's kinda... you know, wacky and not calibrated and all confuzzled when it comes to the sensors and stuff."

The beeping is still ongoing, and is it his imagination or has it become more... urgent, somehow? "Pascal," he says, slowly, "what does that alarm mean?"

"Well, it means that the primary engine has failed, but that can't be right. I mean, it's still - " There's a low, drawn-out groan from somewhere within the ship, and she freezes, her voice dropping in volume. "... running. Oh. Urk."

"Did - did the engine just - stop?" He half-rises from his seat, alarmed. "There's a backup engine, isn't there - ?"

"Oh, yeah! I'm such a dummy, I totally forgot." She cheerfully flicks a switch, and... nothing happens. In the silence that follows, Hubert and Pascal exchange alarmed looks, and the Amarcian suddenly laughs as if she's just heard a really good joke. "Ohhhh, yeah, haha, so I really_ am_ a dummy. I also totally forgot that we blew out the backup engine the last time we were on Fodra, and I never had Psi fix it, 'cause what's the use of two engines?"

"Pascal." Hubert tries his hardest to stay calm, but he can feel the ship growing still, very still, and he doesn't like what she's saying, not one bit. "Are we going to crash?"

"I'm gonna level with you here, Hu." She sighs. "Yeah. We're gonna crash."

"Wonderful," he mutters, and sinks into his seat again, digging his fingers into the sides of the armrests. "Well, it won't be the first time. I trust you will at least be able to steer us to land?"

"It's gonna be tricky, given the angle and distance, but..." He sees her looking from the controls to the ocean and islands below them, her lips moving silently as if she's doing some calculations - and she probably is - and then she sighs, rubbing her forehead with one palm. "Yeah... tricky might be an understatement... I'll do what I can, but - " The ship lurches suddenly, and she yelps before leaning forward, rapidly toggling switches and turning knobs on the control panel. "... but don't hold it against me if we come in for a splash landing, okay?!"

"This was a bad idea," he mutters to himself, closing his eyes and holding on tight as the ship lurches again, dangerously, its nose slowly falling to point down toward the ocean. "I should have refused you, should have stayed at my desk and continued my paperwork - "

"Hold on!" she calls, and he hears something that might be the landing gear descending as the ship begins to fall out of the sky. He clenches his teeth together and keeps his eyes shut, and as the alarm continues to beep, says a silent prayer that they both come out of this in one piece.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Hubert and Pascal stand side by side on the shore of an island in the middle of the ocean, a broken aircraft sprawled out in two long, slightly crumpled pieces on the land before them, and it's Pascal who sums up their shared feelings about the situation in two very direct, succinct words: "Well, crap."

"That's all you have to say?"

"I dunno, Hu, what _else_ do you want me to say? The ship is broken. Maybe you should be thanking me for saving your freaking _life_." She huffs and crosses her arms, stiffly, and the anger in her voice catches him completely off guard. "I'm totally sorry that the engine failed, and that I just barely managed to land on one of these stupid islands, and I guess it's all my fault that my aim sucks when I don't have a working engine and a stupid tree broke _my_ ship in half - "

"Stop," he interrupts her, and reaches out to gently lay a hand on her shoulder, "stop. I didn't mean to... I'm sorry. But I..." He looks at the ship, specifically at the large crack that runs up the middle - the crack that is actually more like a gap, one he can see through - and cringes. "... I am afraid we have gotten ourselves into quite a predicament this time."

She chews on her bottom lip, looking from his hand on her shoulder to the ship, and then unfolds her arms, reaching up to comb messy hair out of her eyes. "Yeah... guess we're not going anywhere anytime soon, huh?"

"Not unless you have the equipment to patch the ship together again."

"Yeah, um, no. I don't exactly carry sheet metal around with me every time I go flying. But hey, as long as the radio still works..." She eases carefully out of his grasp and starts in the direction of the ship, her boots sinking into the sand as she moves. Hubert follows, wondering exactly what she's talking about, and when they enter the cockpit of the ship through a newly made hole in one side - carefully, because walls and floor are all damaged, but thankfully not enough to have hurt them on their landing - she reaches for a small black box with a cord attached to the control panel and presses a small red button on the top. "Fourier?" she asks, and they both listen... but there's nothing, just a low crackle of static. "Nuts," Pascal murmurs, and then sighs, nodding at the man beside her. "I have this thing wired up to communicate directly with Fourier's lab," she explains, "'cause the last time I went out and had engine trouble, my big sis insisted that I come up with some way to communicate with her in case of emergency, y'know? But..." She makes a face. "It's kinda pointless if she's not actually in her lab to hear the broadcast."

"Wonderful." He rubs his forehead. "What can we do?"

"Well, I should be able to leave her a message, as long as this little thingie works..." She presses another red button on one side of the black box, and there's a low beep that prompts her to clear her throat and begin to speak. "Heyyyyy, Sis! So, here's the deal. Hu and I were on our way to look at those totally awesome islands we saw the other day, and the engine in the ship just went ka-blammo! So we kinda crashed and the ship broke in half. Yeah! Funny story, huh?" She pauses, apparently noticing the way Hubert is still rubbing his forehead, and giggles nervously. "Soooooo, I guess if you could like, try to communicate with me back when you get into your lab, or like, come rescue us or something, that'd be super! We're way far away from land, and we're definitely not gonna swim back to Strahta, so... yeah! That's it! Thanks, Sis!" She presses the button again, then abruptly drops the receiver, groaning. "Sorry, Hu..."

"Why do I get the feeling that you do not expect Fourier to return to her lab for quite some time?"

"Oof. I forget how perceptive you are and stuff." She cringes. "Yeah, she was supposed to be at the enclave all this week, so..."

"Wonderful." He folds his hands together, looking out the front window of the ship at the sand and ocean before them. "We are stranded together on an island in the middle of the ocean, away from all human contact, your sister is not able to receive your message for several days, and we have absolutely no idea as to what the climate, weather, or monsters are like in this area. This is... perhaps the _worst_ situation you have ever dragged me into."

"Hey," she says quickly, frowning, "it could be worse."

"I _beg_ you to tell me how."

"Well," she begins, and abruptly grabs hold of one of his arms, "it's the two of us, so it won't be bad, yeah? As long as we stick together, we'll be a completely unstoppable team again! Just like the old days!"

"P - Pascal - "

"Seriously, it could be a_ lot_ worse." She squeezes his arm once before dropping it, and Hubert's glad to see her turn away, because he knows his face is about to change colors in an absolutely mortifying kind of way. "I know the ship's cracked right in half and stuff, but at least we brought supplies. I stocked up with enough food and water for two days, and we've got medical supplies and a couple changes of clothes, I think, and - " She starts in the direction in the back of the ship, and he follows, carefully, side-stepping what remains of the massive palm tree that rather roughly broke their landing... and the aircraft, for that matter. "... and," she continues, reaching the back room, "we've still got somewhere to sleep."

"Hm." He peeks into the room and sees that the rest area, while dark and in disarray, does not appear damaged. "Well, that does satisfy our needs of food and shelter, at least for the time being. But our safety on this island is questionable at best. There could be monsters, or inclement weather. If there were to be an attack of some kind on the ship, the structure would only last for so long." He looks down at her with a slight frown. "And what is the situation with the ship's power? The communicator appeared to function, but the lights in this area are out..."

"Oh, shoot! I'm glad you said something." She turns on her heel and hurries back to the cockpit, leaving Hubert to scramble to keep up with her. "Yeah, so the power in the back of the ship is definitely gone for good. It's gonna be pitch black in there come night. But there are two energy systems - kinda like batteries - stationed up front. One powers the control panel and the engine, and the other powers the other functions, like lights and landing gear and stuff. We only need to worry about the first system, 'cause the second one is useless to us now." She bends over the panel with a finger to her lips, as if she's looking for something, then smacks a small yellow button with one hand before turning another switch to the left. "The problem is that the first energy source can eventually drain itself, especially if it's turned on all the time. We'll have to leave the power switched on so the communicator works and Fourier can contact us. Buutttttt..." She ducks through the hole at the front and he follows, and when they reach the sand and turn to face the ship again, they're met with the sight of a large, metallic panel rising slowly from the top. "... not too long ago, I added on a solar panel that will bring in energy from sunlight and convert it to energy that can power the ship. It was meant to be one of those last resort type function thingies, which..." She laughs. "... I guess it is, right now, huh?"

Despite his annoyance and fear of the unknown, Hubert is actually impressed. He folds his arms together and watches the panel slide into place, its face pointed upwards, in the direction of the sun that beams down on the island. "I have to hand it to you, Pascal," he says, "you are always prepared."

She winks at him. "You betcha!"

"But even with our power situation resolved, we have a limited supply of food and water, and our current location is one that has not been studied by anyone, as far as we are aware. We may be in grave danger." He swallows, nodding once at her. "Assuming we will be here for several days, as I regretfully must admit that we might... it would be best for the two of us to get a better understanding of this situation as soon as possible."

"You wanna go exploring?" she asks, and he nods again. "Y'okay! Grab your stuff and let's get to it. We'll be like real life adventurers, Hu!"

"I wish I could share your enthusiasm," he responds, and sighs as he trudges back into the ship to retrieve his weapon. He has a feeling that the next several days are going to be among the most challenging of his life - and not because he's stuck on an unexplored island in the middle of the ocean with limited supplies, but because he's stuck with Pascal, of all people. And just this once, Hubert thinks he would have preferred anyone else, because he's all but certain that having feelings for the person he's stranded with is going to make this entire situation that much worse.


	2. start a fire

**author's note: **I was not planning on this chapter being this long. Ack. But on we go...

* * *

**islands in the sea**  
chapter two - _start a fire  
_

* * *

With weapons in hand and a few supplies carried between them, Hubert and Pascal set out to explore the island on which their ship has crash-landed. They first circle the area, walking close to the shore, looking out across the ocean at the other islands and trying to guess the distance between them. Pascal says she's pretty sure that they landed on the southernmost body of land - the smallest one - and Hubert thinks that the island's circumference is of less than a mile. The nearby land is not close enough for swimming, but he comments, when they stop to look out to the center island, that it might be close enough for a boat trip - and at that remark the Amarcian's eyes sparkle in a way that makes him groan and wish he'd never opened his mouth.

Their walk in the sand is slow and uneventful, and takes less than an hour. Hubert is somewhat relieved to find that the ocean around them is calm, for the time being, and Pascal seems delighted by the sand on the shore, which is almost pure white and soft and dotted with shells (quite different from the rough yellowish, sand that makes up the deserts of Strahta). They see no sign of monsters, only a few tiny red crabs scuttling along the beach, and at one point they witness a few large fish leaping out of the water in the distance. It's actually almost peaceful, like an uninhabited vacation destination. But when it's time to venture into the trees that are clustered together in the middle of the island, everything changes.

"It's obvious that no one has been here in ages," Hubert remarks, using the blade of his weapon to cut a long, thick vine out of their path, "if ever. This overgrowth is so thick that I am not sure we will be able to continue much further."

"Ugh. I totally see your point." Pascal is to his side, using a small knife to saw away at additional vines, and he can hear the frustration in her voice. They are barely twenty minutes into the trees - although it's more like a jungle, he thinks - and all they have done so far is cut vines and tall shoots of what appear to be bamboo out of their way. "I dunno if it's worth going in any further, I mean... I haven't seen a single monster so far, just a couple birds up there in the trees. Fourier would know a ton more about this than I would, but maybe it's just not possible for very many creatures to survive on this kind of terrain."

"That is possible. Especially considering the lack of fresh water."

"Seems like monsters are more like people than we give them credit for, sometimes." She laughs, watching a vine fall to the dirty, dusty forest floor in front of them. "But hey, this is good, yeah? Nothing attacking us but these stupid trees."

"Don't get too confident." He chops down a stalk of bamboo, squinting in the direction of the trees ahead, listening carefully for any noises around them. "The deeper we go, the more likely we are to encounter something dangerous. If humans have never been to this location - "

"Or," she cuts in, with a smile, "if the last people to be here were my ancestors, hundreds or thousands of years ago - "

" - then," he continues, not at all amused by her interjection, "we should be prepared for the worst."

"Oh, c'mon, _really_?" She shoots him a skeptical look. "It's been totally quiet since we got here, except for the birds, and I don't see them dive-bombing us or anything. If there really were monsters running around thinking about eating us or whatever, wouldn't we have seen them by now?"

He exhales, shaking his head as he slashes at another vine. "Please stay on guard, Pascal. I can ask for nothing else."

She scrunches up her nose at him, taking a few steps ahead to work on a vine of her own. "You can be a real buzzkill sometimes. You know that, right?"

He scoffs, taking a particularly hard swipe at a stalk of bamboo, even though it isn't really even in his way. "Forgive me, I hadn't realized that my actions were causing you any kind of hardship. Please_ do_ forgive me for being cautious on an unknown and possibly unexplored island in the middle of the Strahtan sea, away from _any_ hope of rescue - "

"BANANAS!"

Hubert is used to nonsensical interruptions from Pascal, especially after traveling by her side for so long, but this particular shout carries so much joy in it that he doesn't bother trying to continue. Instead he watches as the Amarcian claps her hands together merrily, scurrying ahead into the trees, and lo and behold... "I see," he sighs, as he picks up his pace, "there are indeed bananas here."

"Oh, man, I was soooooo upset about landing on this island, but this is like _paradise_ right here!" She laughs happily, sheathing her knife and tucking it away in one pocket of her shorts, and as he watches she rather easily climbs the trunk of a tall banana plant, wrapping her arms around it like a beloved friend. "There are probably hundreds of bananas! And they're allllll mine!"

"It seems that way," he comments, rather begrudgingly. For once, she's not exaggerating: the trees in the forest have given way to tall, leafy banana plants, all clustered close together, their tops reaching nearly as high as the palms and vines behind them. As she coos and practically nuzzles the tree she's chosen to hug, apparently delighted by their discovery, he can't help but feel a bit envious - No, he stops himself, that's_ ridiculous_. He has no reason to be jealous of a tree. It doesn't at all matter that she's never shrieked and hugged_ him_ that way -

There's a rustling to his side, and he immediately holds his weapon aloft, tensing as he whirls around to face the source of the noise. At first he sees nothing - but then, looking down, his eyes settle on the form of what appears to be a small brown boar. The creature is short, with brown fur and a dark, scruffy mane and tail, and long white tusks that curve up in the direction of its bright golden eyes. It stares at Hubert and he stares back, wondering he should be alarmed, but the creature doesn't appear to be moving, aside from its slowly swishing tail. "Hmm," he murmurs, bending slightly, "where is it that _you_ came from?"

"Hu?" He hears Pascal's voice and doesn't like the trepidation it carries. "Um... there's something you should know..."

"What?" he asks, and almost immediately assumes that he has his answer: when he lifts his eyes from the creature in front of him, he sees several more creeping out from behind the banana plants, all moving slowly and quietly, golden eyes fixed directly on him. He swallows, hard, and brings his dualblade close, his free hand gesturing back in her direction. "They don't appear to be interested in harming us," he begins, keeping his voice low, "but it would be best if you stayed - "

"In the tree? Yeah, too late, sorry." She's beside him again in an instant, and he sighs, remembering all at once just how light - and fast - she is on her feet. "Looks like you were right about monsters, huh?"

"... yes. It appears that way."

"They're probably just wondering what the heck we're doing in their neck of the woods." When he looks at Pascal, he sees her peering down at the boar closest to her, one finger tapping her chin. She seems completely unconcerned by the presence of the beasts that are slowly surrounding them - Hubert counts about fifteen of them, more or less - but she has unstrapped her staff from her back, and holds it tight in her opposite hand, the end resting against the dusty earth beneath their feet. "Actually, these bananas are probably their source of food. Boars eat fruit and small things like bugs, if I remember correctly. So they probably got a good look at me climbing up that tree and were like "what the hey?" So..." She laughs, bending over a little further, smiling broadly. "Hey there, boar! You and me are gonna be pals, okay?"

"Pascal!" He groans, rubbing his forehead with one palm. "These creatures do _not_ understand our language! You can't simply try to_ reason_ with them - "

"And how do you know so much, huh? Maybe they're descendants of like, some ancient Amarcian pet boar that understood our language perfectly!"

"I highly doubt that."

"Pfft. You don't know _anything_ about animals. My pet fish used to understand me just fine." She makes a face at him that he tries desperately not to think is cute. "I talked to him all the time!"

He looks from her to the boars, noting that they still aren't moving, simply standing in place with their tails swishing slowly. "You had a pet fish?"

"Yeah, totally. Though he didn't live very long..." She laughs nervously. "I kinda forgot to feed him."

"This, sadly, does not bode well for our current situation." He glances around them, swallowing. "Though they do appear harmless..."

"Yeah, like I said! We're gonna be pals!" She laughs, bending over the creature in front of her again. "What should I name you, little guy? Or are you a girl? What kind of name do you want to have, huh? How about - " Hubert is about to scoff and tell her to stop when all of the boars visibly tense, and there's the sound of a cry in a distance, one that makes him freeze, too. "Huh?" he hears her murmur, lifting her head. "What was that?"

"I don't," he starts, and then each of the beasts that have surrounded them begin running in the direction of the beach beyond the trees, several of them releasing what sound like alarmed squeals and snorts. He watches them, both eyebrows raised, before turning on his heel to face the depth of the forest in front of them, the place they've yet to explore. "Whatever it is," he says, frowning, "I believe it is something they do _not_ want to encounter."

Pascal heaves out a sigh, leaning on her staff. "Another monster?"

"That is my guess."

"Aw, man, that's just annoying. Here I was hoping to enjoy my bananas in peace..." Another cry sounds from within the trees, but this one is closer, and Hubert tenses at the sound of it, swallowing again. The sun is slowly sinking low in the sky, and the lack of light makes it hard for him to see past the place where they stand - no thanks to the leafy trees that stand around them, either, providing a shady canopy that blocks out much of the sun. "And that is a _really_ creepy sound," she adds, making a face. "Like some kind of crazy ghost or something."

"Get ready," he tells her, and braces himself. A moment later he hears the thundering sound of hooves on the dirt and small trees snapping under the force of something large, and suddenly there's another boar charging through the trees to where they stand - but this one is enormous, and angry. It stops short of where they stand, effortlessly snapping a stalk of bamboo in half with one long tusk, and Pascal squeaks, taking a careful step back as the creature fixes its eyes upon her. "Don't move," Hubert warns her, watching the boar closely. "And don't do anything that might be seen as a threat."

"Wh - what_ is_ this thing?!" She makes a whining sound, clutching her weapon close. "Is it like, the king pig or something?!"

"Most likely the queen," he comments, gritting his teeth, "if anything."

"Aw, geez..." She fidgets. "I really don't think I can just stand here, Hu - "

"Be still!" he shouts, but it's a useless order: she backs up quickly, holding her staff in front of her like a shield, and the boar immediately lowers its head, stomping one foot so hard against the ground that he feels the vibration. "Pascal," he tries again, with as much patience as he can muster, "do _not_ move."

"It's gonna charge at me..."

"Not if you stand still." He takes a hesitant step forward, and the boar doesn't appear to notice, its gaze still fixed on the woman to his side. "Just wait. Creatures like this are driven to attack by sudden movement. If you stand without moving - "

The monster suddenly snorts, lowering its head even further, and Pascal shrieks. "I don't think it cares too much for your theory!"

Hubert curses under his breath, taking another step in the direction of the monster. "Don't do anything drastic - !"

Before he can make any further movements, the boar gives a loud cry, moving forward threateningly. Pascal shrieks, tossing her staff into the air as she turns to flee, apparently giving up hope of standing still. "UWAAHHHHHH!" she screams. "It's gonna come after meeee!"

"_Pascal!_" He manages, somehow, to rather gracefully catch her staff in the hand that holds his dualblade, his other arm stretching out to wrap quickly around her waist before she can flee. As she's caught in his grasp she gives another terrified sounding shriek, but he pulls her in close without caring about the contact her body makes against his own, frowning over the top of her head at the large beast. "Running away will make it worse," he says, "because it will give chase. If you don't want to be hurt, stay here and remain still."

"Y - you're going to try and_ fight_ that thing?!"

"I'm afraid we don't have any other choice." He releases her, dropping her staff carefully to the dirt beneath their feet before straightening. His eyes never leave the boar, even as he swings his weapon in front of them, preparing for an attack. "We are the ones invading its home, as far as I am aware. My first inclination would be to leave peacefully, but based on its behavior we have no choice but to fight. Kill or be killed is all this beast knows."

He feels something warm on his shoulder, on top of his coat, and it takes him longer than it should to realize that Pascal is holding on to him. "Hu," she murmurs, and he doesn't like the fear in her voice or the way her hands tremble, "I'm all for fighting monsters, but just the two of us facing this big ugly thing..."

"I will protect you," he says, and it's a promise he's made before, though maybe not loud enough for her to hear. "Just - trust me."

He sees, out of the corner of one eye, a surprised expression appear on her face. "H - Hu - "

"Now!" The boar has been preparing to charge, and as he pushes Pascal back and out of the way, Hubert thanks his lucky stars for his quick reaction time. If he'd waited a second longer, they might have both been run through, and he's all but certain that the creature in front of them wanted it that way. He rushes at the monster with his blade held aloft, and though his enemy is fast, he knows he is faster. The boar sidesteps his first attack, but the second one lands, followed by a third, and the beast gives cries that fill the trees with sound and send tiny birds scattering from the branches above them. Still, it has a lot of fight, he thinks, because even as it bleeds it lowers its head to charge again, this time in the opposite direction. "If you insist on attacking me," he mutters, twisting apart his dualblade, "I will give you my all - "

Across the forest floor he hears a low murmuring, and glances over, just for a second, to see that Pascal has retrieved her weapon and is beginning some kind of spell. "You don't have to help!" he calls, rather angrily, because he doesn't want her to get hurt. "Stay back!"

"Distract it!" she shouts back. "If you're gonna be an idiot about this, I'm _not_ letting you do it alone!"

Hubert isn't sure whether or not he should be appreciative of such a comment, but he doesn't have time to think it over: the boar roars before charging at him again, and his quick sidestep is countered almost immediately with the slash of an enormous tusk. One half of his weapon is knocked out of his right hand, and he winces at the hard slap against his wrist and forearm, but he has no plans to give up yet. He spins the remaining piece of his weapon around in his left hand and fires six bullets, two of which catch the creature between the eyes, and another enormous cry fills the air around them. He steps back and is about to consider an arte when there's a burst of fire on the area where the boar stands. "Hu!" he hears Pascal shouting, "now! Go for it!"

"My pleasure," he mutters, and bends quickly to retrieve the fallen half of his weapon. The dualblade is reassembled in only a second, and he rushes forward again, taking careful aim with his blades. The boar groans and tosses its head madly as it's cut, but then it stills, and as Pascal's fire spell fades away it falls lifelessly to the ground. Hubert draws in a deep, unsteady breath, then releases it, lowering his weapon, feeling his heart pounding away like the beat of a drum. "That was altogether unpleasant," he remarks, frowning down at the beast's lifeless body. "Though perhaps not as difficult as expected."

"You did good!" The Amarcian rushes over to his side, beaming, staff in one hand. "I totally thought that thing was gonna take us both down, but you flattened it like a pancake!"

"... ah, well." He clears his throat, reaching up with one hand to push his glasses back up on his nose. "Your help was - appreciated. But if that monster had come after you..."

"It didn't, though, did it?" She pokes at the boar's body with the end of her shotstaff, winking up at him. "And besides, you said you were gonna protect me. You would have done that if you needed to, yeah?"

"Y - yes - " He fumbles with his dualblade, separating the pieces again and clumsily holstering them out of sight beneath his coat. "A - anyway, I believe we have seen all of this island that we need to. We should return to the ship and decide on a plan of action for the next several days. It is possible that we will..." He notices something moving behind her and forgets what he is planning to say, raising both eyebrows and watching in silence as a small boar comes tumbling through the trees with a small bag in its mouth. "... what in the world," he begins, "is...?"

"Huh?" Pascal turns and watches the creature for a moment, then shrieks, clapping a hand over her mouth. "That's some of - my food - ?!"

He leans to one side, looking around her, and sees another boar trotting along with what appears to be a scarf wrapped around its tusks. He looks from it to his companion, and they stare at each other, wide-eyed, until they realize what is going on -

"The ship!" they chorus, and immediately break into a run, hurrying as fast as they can out of the trees and to the beach again.

* * *

"So?" An hour later, Pascal sits cross-legged in the sand in the middle of the beach, her chin propped up in one hand, and as Hubert comes to join her she gives him a sympathetic look. "What's the damage?"

"We have a few ounces of clean water and one can of soup." He collapses beside her with a loud, heavy sigh, shaking his head, and out of the corners of his eyes he can see her cringe. "The rest was either eaten, stolen, or in some state of contamination. In addition to the loss of our perishables, you appear to have lost a scarf, and the cabin and rest area were in total disarray. The door to the back of the ship has been all but destroyed, thanks to those beasts."

"Great..." She sighs loudly, closing her eyes. "So now not only are we stuck on this stupid island, all our food's gone."

"Those monsters may have been waiting for us to vacate the area. Once we were distracted, they used the opportunity to raid the ship for food." He shakes his head again. "Some of our more critical supplies remain untouched, but I fear that we are in a far worse situation than before. We will have no choice but to search the island for a source of food, and clean water is almost completely out of the question, considering our location."

"Aw, man..." She lifts a hand to rub her forehead. "This sucks..."

"_That_ is an understatement." He frowns. "Had I been privy to even a hint of what might happen upon our arrival at this island, I would have immediately rejected your offer and remained at home. Right now I would be - " He glances up at the sky, which is rapidly growing darker as the sun sinks low into the ocean. " - eating dinner with my father, or reading in my room, or perhaps even catching up on paperwork in my office. I would certainly not be sitting here with no food to speak of - "

"Oh, but there are bananas, right?"

" - with no _substantial_ food to speak of," he corrects himself, his voice hardening, "and no drinkable water, stranded on an island in the ocean with no hope of rescue and only a half-crazed Amarcian companion to help me survive!"

"... right," Pascal says, weakly, and out of the corners of his eyes, Hubert sees her stiffen, her gaze falling to the sand in front of her. "You're right. This is my fault, I guess."

"It's - " he starts, but then stops himself, realizing what he is doing. He is tired and frustrated and hungry, and his wrist aches something awful, and he is lashing out at her purely as a matter of consequence. What remains of their ship looks terrible, and he is not happy with the loss of their supplies - but it isn't her fault, not at all. Neither of them are to blame for this -

"... Hu?"

He looks over at her, lifting an eyebrow, wondering what she is going to say. "Yes?"

"So I..." Much to his surprise, she lowers her head, her voice growing soft, and he catches a glimpse of a sad expression on her face before her hair falls into her eyes. "... I know I keep roping you into all these stupid plans, but this one... it's gotta be the worst, yeah? I really just thought we could spend a day or two together, and it'd be fun, like old times, but I didn't expect all this to happen..." He hears an unusual kind of sadness in her words and doesn't like it, doesn't like it at all, wants suddenly to throw his arms around her shoulders and tell her to stop it right this instant. "The last time something crazy happened, you told me you only wanted to do normal stuff, and... I totally blew it, didn't I?"

He leans forward, ready to interrupt with an apology. "Pas - "

"So," she continues, and he falls silent, realizing that she still has more to say, even though hearing these words will surely hurt him, "when we get back... I promise, only normal stuff from now on. I won't ever bug you to go adventuring or exploring or treasure hunting with me again. I'll do all that on my own, okay? And that way I won't bother you anymore, and we can go do whatever normal people do. Or if you decide that you don't want to see me again, I mean..." She shrugs. "I guess I can't blame you, huh...?"

He considers these words for a while, studying her, the way she sits completely still with her head bowed and hands clasped together. He knows that it's his fault that she is acting this way - that his short temper has led her to believe that he wants nothing to do with her. And that couldn't be further from the truth. He is upset with their situation, yes, but he doesn't blame her, not at all, and the mere suggestion that he is angry at her makes him feel like a selfish, terrible man -

"Pascal," he says, and watches as she lifts her head. "Smile," he tells her, firmly, with a nod, "instead of making a face like that."

"Smile...?"

"That kind of expression really doesn't suit you. You look much better when you're giving me one of those ridiculous grins, and bouncing all over the place shouting about bananas or some piece of Amarcian technology." She blinks at him, lips parted, and he's struck by the urge to reach out and ruffle her hair, of all things - and he does it, because he's always wanted to know what her hair feels like, and it's tangled from the wind but surprisingly soft against his fingers. "I - I'm not angry with you," he stutters, drawing back his hand as her eyes grow wide, "I am merely - frustrated - with our situation. So please smile. If things are bad enough that not even _you_ can smile, then..." He swallows, looking away, already wondering why in the world he would have dared to do such a stupid, intimate thing -

"Hehe." She giggles suddenly, softly, and much to his surprise he feels the light touch of something on his wrist - her hand, he realizes, snapping his head back in her direction. "Have you cheered up a lot of girls before, Hu?"

He feels himself beginning to color, and gives her the most annoyed look he can muster, even though she's inches from holding his hand and he wants that more than anything else, even more than he wants to get off this island. "W - why would you think something like that?"

"I'm just wondering. You're pretty good at it. You've gotten better, anyway." She smiles, and he feels his heart thump hard against the front of his chest. "I remember when you used to try to cheer me up by telling me to knock it off before I distracted everybody, or when you'd pass me an extra plate of food at dinnertime while we were traveling without saying anything." She moves her hand, threading her fingers through his, and Hubert feels so lightheaded that he's worried he might faint. "Thanks," she says, and squeezes her palm to his. "I kinda needed to hear that."

"Y - you're w - wel - " He looks away, cursing his inability to speak when he's embarrassed, and he's starting to feel a little dizzy on top of that. "... don't mention it," he says instead, closing his eyes, both loving and hating how warm her skin is against his own. "I couldn't possibly bear the thought of - of being stranded here with you if you were to be pouting and speaking ill of yourself the entire time."

She giggles again. "Yeah, 'cause being stuck here with _me_ is bad enough, right?"

"I - I didn't say that!"

"You kinda did. You called me a half-crazed Amarcian, didn't you?" She squeezes his hand again, and god help him if she does it a third time, because he's all but certain he will pass out right here on this beach. "Well, even so, I'm glad it's you here with me. If it were anybody else, I'd probably drive them nuts. You're strangely resilient to that sorta thing."

This conversation is moving in the direction of a topic Hubert wants to avoid - his feelings - and so he carefully pulls his hand out of her grasp, clearing his throat and opening his eyes as he prepares to change the subject. When he looks to her again, she seems to be watching him carefully, and he hopes she isn't noticing the flush on his cheeks or the way he's trembling, but as unobservant as she is, sometimes, he thinks that she can't have possibly missed that reaction - "A - anyway," he starts, and tries desperately to level his unsteady voice, "as unfortunate as this situation is for the two of us, it is not impossible to deal with. Provided there are no additional monsters on the island that pose a threat to us, we should be able to survive long enough for rescue by your sister, or perhaps a search party from Strahta."

"Oh yeah!" Pascal is back to her old self again already, and she gives him a grin, clapping her hands together. "I completely forgot that I gave the prez a copy of the map with the islands and coordinates drawn on and stuff. So as soon as he figures out we're missing, he'll probably send some guys looking for us!"

"Unfortunately, I did advise him that the entire expedition would take at least two nights." He frowns slightly. "So we may be here for the better part of a week before my disappearance is noted."

"Well, there's always hope of Fourier getting back to the lab early."

"But how will she be able to reach us, even if she does hear your message?" He lifts an eyebrow. "And for that matter, will we be able to hear her response, if we are away from the ship?"

"Fourier built - er, had built, she didn't do any of the heavy lifting or anything - a zippy little aircraft of her own, not that long ago. She studied the technology of that thing - " She jerks a thumb over her shoulder, at the crumpled and broken plane on the ground. " - and duplicated it on a smaller scale, plus with a whole bunch of efficient energy-saving technology stuff. It was still a little wonky, the last time we took it out, but still way more reliable than my ship, I guess." She shifts on the sand, stretching her legs out in front of her and kicking off her boots. "Anyway, I figure she can bring that out here to pick us up. As far as hearing her, well... I guess we'll just have to stay close to the ship, 'cause the speakers aren't that loud, even with a big hole in the side. But the good thing is that as long as the energy source and solar power work together - " She points over her shoulder again, this time at the panel attached to the top of the aircraft. " - she'll be able to leave us a message, even if we aren't around to hear it." She smiles. "And if all else fails, I bet your military buddies will come sailing out here on a big ol' ship trying to find the islands, right?"

"That is always a possibility." He rubs his chin, releasing a sigh. "But I would prefer not to be rescued by my own men. They would most certainly not allow me to live that kind of thing down."

"Hehe, well - " A loud rumbling noise interrupts Pascal's response, and she looks suddenly at her stomach, her face flushing. "Yipes..."

"I remember that sound very well." Hubert gets to his feet, holding back a chuckle as he does so. "I suppose we should eat. There is at least soup for us to share tonight, but tomorrow morning we will have no choice but to search for other options."

"But there are lots of bananas - "

"And I don't particularly _like_ bananas." He shakes his head at her, but his frustration is all but gone, so his words sound more teasing than they do angry. "So if you would like both of us to come out of this alive, we will have to find some other source of food."

"Y'okay!" She springs up off the sand, saluting him with a grin and a wink. "I can get behind that. I'd feel pretty lousy if you keeled over and died out here in the middle of nowhere."

"I would hope you would at least write a proper epitaph for my tombstone."

"Ooh, that's heavy. Let's see..." She turns away from him, folding her arms behind her head as she begins walking in the direction of the trees behind the ship. "How about... "here lies Hubert Oswell, a total jerk who never had any fun ever in his entire life"?"

So much for his frustration being gone. "_Pascal!_"

"Hey, you didn't say it had to be _nice_." She looks over his shoulder at him with another wink. "C'mon, slowpoke. Get over here and help this crazy Amarcian find some firewood."

Hubert is suddenly very sure that Pascal is going to make him wish he'd never lashed out at her, and he doesn't exactly blame her for it, but...

"What have I gotten myself into?" he wonders aloud, following her.

* * *

By the time they set up camp on the beach and share a meal, night has fallen on the island, leaving Hubert and Pascal in the dark with only the light of the moon and stars above and a campfire in front of them. Hubert sits on the sand with his attention on the navy sky, and although he is still irritated with their situation and the difficulties they have faced so far, he knows it is pointless to complain about things any more than he already has. Tomorrow, he thinks, he must turn his mind to their survival - to finding food, and to ensuring their safety.

To his side, Pascal is humming cheerfully to herself as she munches on a banana, sitting cross-legged with an empty bowl in her lap. They'd had only a can of soup left to share for dinner, but she'd insisted on having a banana, of course, and had dashed into the trees to grab a few bunches "for later." Some of the boars had chased her out, leaving Hubert to deal with them while she screamed apologies "for killing their mother, or father, or whatever that big monster-y thing was." After that mess, they'd built a campfire out of branches that she'd lit with a fire arte, and then he had found a pot, two bowls, and two spoons in the tiny, messy kitchen of the ship. He'd been tasked with holding the pot of soup over the fire to warm it, but Pascal had of course looked at the scene for five entire seconds before declaring that in the morning she would build a full cooking station over the fire to make it easier to use. Then they'd eaten quietly, hungrily, apparently both worn out and eager for food from the fiasco of the afternoon.

Hubert glances at his companion, letting out a sigh as he does so. "This day," he remarks, quietly, "has been rather... taxing."

"Tell me about it." Pascal finishes her banana and tosses the peel into her empty bowl, placing everything on the sand in front of her. "But hey, at least we came out of the crash alive, yeah? Things could have been way worse."

"You are correct, but I worry for our safety on this island. We still do not know what awaits us here - or how long we will be stranded."

"Mm, you're right, Hu..." He sees her expression shift away from that of the happy smile she had been wearing while eating her banana. "Do you think we'll be safe here? I mean..." She turns her head to look at the trees behind them, biting down softly on her bottom lip. "What if that was the king pig, and the queen pig is still out there somewhere, waiting for us to let our guard down so she can run us through? Those tusks looked pretty hard..."

"Yes," he remarks, and rubs absently at his aching wrist, still sore from the slap of a tusk; he won't be surprised if his arm is sporting a particularly nasty bruise in the morning. "It is always possible that there are additional monsters lurking about, or that the smaller boars might attempt to cause further trouble for us. And although the weather and temperature both appear agreeable so far, we have no knowledge of the storms that may pass through this area. We might awake to find the entire island flooded." He thinks for a moment, shifting his eyes to the ocean before them, watching the tide roll in and out in three slow cycles before he speaks again. "I suppose there's no choice. One of us will have to stand guard."

"Really? But - "

"I don't mind doing it," he says, and looks back to her with a nod. "You may sleep inside the ship for the evening. I will remain outside on the lookout for any signs of trouble."

"Hu..." She makes a noise of concern, frowning up at him. "Then when are you gonna sleep?"

He shrugs, palms-up, avoiding eye contact with her. "I will sleep for a few hours in the morning, once you are awake, and perhaps again in the afternoon."

"That doesn't seem fair. Why don't we just trade off? Like, I'll stand guard for a couple hours, and then you'll do it for a couple hours, and - "

"That won't be necessary." He shakes his head. "I am more than capable of performing guard duties on my own. Besides, I can't say that I am at all confident in your ability to guard our camp without getting yourself into some kind of trouble, or falling asleep at your post."

She makes a face at him immediately, narrowing her amber eyes. "_You're_ one to talk. I remember getting up late at night and finding you snoozing at your post more than once."

"Y - you _what_ - ?!"

"Guess you thought nobody noticed, huh? Hehe." She grins. "Alright, so this is how it's gonna go. I'm gonna string together a couple traps to put around the perimeter of the ship. They'll make lots of noise, so even a super sound sleeper like me will wake up when they go off. Then we're both gonna go to sleep, and if we need a better solution or get attacked in the middle of the night, we'll figure out a better system tomorrow."

He opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again. "Pascal, you cannot simply_ decide_ - "

"I can and I just did. You're not gonna be any good to me tired, y'know?" She reaches out and pokes him in the shoulder, still grinning. "Now get up off your stubborn butt and help me make some traps."

"W - why should I?" He frowns, folding his arms stiffly together. "Even if the traps make noise, by the time we hear anything from inside the rest area, it could be too late. Those boars are capable of running at a very high speed, and sounds are muffled when they reach the inside of the ship."

"Hm... You have a good point there." She tilts her head slightly, eyes shifting skyward, and then nods, smacking a fist into her palm. "Okay, not a problem! I'll just move the traps further back on the side that faces the trees, so if something comes through there, we'll hear it earlier. And since we can't do much for the beach ones, I guess we'll just have to move our beds outside so we can hear them sooner."

He gapes at her again. "You are suggesting that we sleep outside?"

"_Heck_ yeah! It'll be like a good old-fashioned camping trip!" She laughs, squeezing both hands into fists, and her eyes practically sparkle with excitement. "We'll just drag some of the mattresses and blankets and stuff out onto the sand, and smash 'em together so we're close to each other and can wake each other up if something crazy happens, and - and hey, that means we'll be able to like, sleep right under the stars and stuff! Isn't that cool?"

Hubert thinks he is able to do nothing but gape anymore, like some sort of dying fish out of water. "_Cool_?" he echoes her.

"Well, yeah! Didn't you ever go on camping trips when you were little?" She smiles up at him, her eyes still bright, and he wonders if it's possible for a human being to be killed by his heart stopping multiple times as a result of a pretty girl's smile. "Fourier and I used to do that kind of stuff all the time. Are you seriously trying to tell me you and Asbel never slept outside overnight in tents, staring up at the stars or cooking stuff over the fire on sticks?"

"N - no, I - "

"Then it's settled!" She leans over and smacks a fist into his shoulder, laughing. "This will be your initiation to camping. We are gonna have soooo much fun, Hu!"

He groans aloud. "This is _not_ my idea of fun."

"Too bad, so sad! Now get up - " She grabs for his hand and he snatches it away, but then she loops an arm around his neck and practically chokes him. " - and help me out, you grumpy guy!"

"Ugh - _Pascal_ - "

"C'mon, c'mon!" She drags him almost effortlessly to his feet before releasing him and bounding off in the direction of the ship. Hubert watches her go, slack-jawed, and after a moment he lets out another long, loud groan. If he could have picked anyone to be stranded with on an island in the middle of the Strahtan sea, it would have _not_ been Pascal. Pascal would have been his last choice, right behind Raymond, or even Captain Malik -

"Hubert Oswell, get your grumpy_ butt_ over here before I _kick_ it over here!"

- but he has no choice now but to deal with the hand that fate has dealt him. All he can hope now is that he makes it home in one piece... and that his heart doesn't somehow get broken on the way there.


	3. we had it all

**author's note: **This is the first of two very, very long chapters. The pace is going to pick up a bit after this, so no worries about a lack of... erm... progress, shall we say? No, I'm not going to torture you all with unresolved romantic feelings for _too_ much longer. I also want to take a second to say thanks to everyone who's been leaving reviews on this or encouraging me on tumblr, I really appreciate it! I'm having fun writing this, even though it's quickly turning into a monster of a fic.

Annnnd away we go...

* * *

**islands in the sea**  
chapter three - _we had it all  
_

* * *

Hubert wakes in the morning to the faint screeching of gulls and the sound of the ocean. He opens his eyes and looks at the sky above him, bright and beautiful and blue, and checks the position of the sun - it's perhaps half past eight, late for him to be getting up, all things considered - before stretching out an arm to fumble for his glasses on the edge of his bed. Considering how poor he's slept, it isn't as if he's forgotten where he is -

But, he realizes suddenly, and practically throws on his glasses as he rolls over, there's something - some_one_ - that should be here and isn't.

He'd somehow allowed Pascal to convince him that her plan - to set up traps and then sleep outside - was sound. She'd strung together a few noisy items on long lengths of rope, sacrificing shattered pieces of the ship's sides for the purpose of making alarms that had been placed all around their camp, on the beach and by the trees. They'd then gone into the rest area at the back of the ship, which had been pitch black, and dragged two mattresses and some blankets and pillows out on the sand. She had pushed the beds together despite his protests, and had then unceremoniously thrown off everything but her shirt and shorts and flopped down to rest. Hubert had reluctantly shed his boots and uniform coat, and he hadn't wanted to lie so close to Pascal, but she'd insisted and he'd been tired, so he'd given in.

In the present time, he sits up, lifting a hand to rub his eyes beneath his glasses, and frowns at the empty bed beside his. Pascal had been snoring all night, and that combined with the unfamiliar surroundings had contributed to him jolting awake nearly every half hour. It had only been around dawn that he had finally rolled onto his back and all but passed out. He had expected to wake first, early, and to use that time to look for food, but somehow Pascal is the one gone first -

He notices something in the distance, out on the edge of the ocean, and squints. It looks like his missing companion - he'd know that shock of red and white hair anywhere, after all - but is it his imagination or is she not wearing any clothes?

Oh. Oh good god in _heaven_. Hubert stifles what might be a scream and immediately throws himself to the bed again, picking up a pillow and burying his head beneath it. He's ever-so-grateful for the fact that they'd made their camp far back, away from the shore, but even at the distance between him and Pascal, he'd been able to quite quickly confirm that no, she had_ not_ been wearing anything. Her back had been to him so she hadn't seen him peeping, but oh good_ lord_, his entire body seems to be burning and _why_ had she been _naked_?! He's never seen a woman even close to undressed before now, and of course he's had... thoughts... of what certain companions of his might look like unclothed, but that's just not _proper_, and to see what he saw -

He swallows and decides that he's going to lie here with a pillow over his face for a while. Somehow that seems like the most logical thing to do.

A few minutes later he hears off-key humming, and then there's laughter and the faint sound of bare feet crunching into sand. "Hey, sleepyhead, I see you hiding under there," Pascal greets him, because apparently "good morning" is_ far_ too passe for her. "Aren't you gonna get up?"

"No."

"The heck?" He hears her arrive beside him, and her voice comes closer, as if she's kneeling by the side of the mattress. "What's gotten into you, huh? You were totally gung-ho last night about waking up early and getting stuff done - "

"That," he interrupts her, and his voice is muffled by the pillow over his face, "was before you kept me awake with your snoring, and before I woke and saw - " Wait, no, bad idea. Pascal may be almost entirely lacking in modesty, but he'd rather not reveal the fact that he now has a general idea of what she looks like unclothed, lest she take offense and do something that hurts him. "... before I saw you had already risen," he recovers. "I thought you might take it upon yourself to find some food."

"Oh, not yet. There's a ton of fish out there in the water, though. Seems like it'd be pretty easy to catch a couple."

"Then what - what were - " Hubert's voice actually cracks, and the pillow does nothing to muffle that. " - were you actually doing - ?"

"Taking a bath," she answers cheerfully, as if it's no big deal, but it is. "Normally I hate doing that kinda thing, but I thought it might actually be fun to go for a swim in the ocean and get cleaned up. I dunno what the salt water's gonna do to my hair, but..." There's a pause, and then she grabs the pillow off his face, and his vision is suddenly filled with amber eyes and damp hair and a pair of pink lips that he would give up one or more of his limbs to kiss even once. "Okay," she says, and tosses the pillow aside, into the sand, "I'm not gonna hold a conversation with you hiding your face the whole time. That's just stupid."

"P - P - " He sucks in a breath and closes his eyes and expects his face to catch on fire, not only because she's close but because - "PUT ON SOME CLOTHING!" he shouts, and is going to pretend he didn't just have an excellent view of her cleavage, "NOW!"

"_Seriously_? I'm wearing a towel."

He had noticed that. "A - a towel is not enough, Pascal. Put on your _clothes_."

His eyes are still closed, but he can almost hear her making a face. "Don't be like that, Hu. You act like you've never seen a girl without her clothes on before."

"I _HAVEN'T_!"

"Oh, geez, who woulda thought..." She laughs. "Well, there's a first time for everything, yeah? But seriously, I thought you were drowning in marriage proposals, the way Captain was talking. He made it sound like there were pretty girls practically throwing themselves at you, and that you had taken a fancy to at least a couple of 'em - "

"Pascal." He's gritting his teeth now. "Your clothes._ Now_."

"Alright, sheesh! Fine." He opens one eye and sees her rise to her feet, noting that the towel she has wrapped around her is much too small. "I'm going inside the ship, then. Do you wanna get a bath, too?"

"... I suppose." He sits up, because doing so will keep her out of his line of vision, and rubs his stiff neck, then his aching wrist - yes, there's the bruise he'd been expecting, enormous and faint purple. "But I would ask that you not come out of the ship while I am doing so - "

"Aw, are you worried I'm gonna peek at you?" She leans forward, as if on purpose, and Hubert gets another _splendid_ view of her cleavage, one that sends him scrambling forward, off the mattress and into the sand. Behind him, Pascal laughs, merrily, as if this entire scene is amusing to her (and it probably is, he thinks, knowing her sense of humor). "It's really no big deal. We're adults, aren't we? People see each other without clothing all the time - "

"That is a lie!" He forces himself to his feet, keeping his back turned on her, and crosses his arms stiffly together. "Where I come from, people do no such thing, and I will thank you not to make such assumptions about what is acceptable among adults, because I do not find the prospect of - of _bathing_ in front of you - "

"Alright, alright,_ fine_. I get it. I won't watch."

"Thank you," he snaps. "I appreciate it. And - "

"But," she continues, and her voice takes on a teasing edge, "you already got a good look at _me_, didn't you? So it would only be fair if I got something in return."

"I DIDN'T SEE - " He sputters, yelling nearly at the top of his lungs. "I - I DID NO SUCH THING!"

"Suuuuure you didn't. Are you telling me that's not why I came back here and found you red as a tomato with a pillow over your face?"

Damn her, he thinks, and clenches his fists, _damn_ her for being so ridiculously perceptive, out of nowhere, as if it's an ability she can turn on and off and use when she thinks it will mortify him the most. "I did not see anything," he forces out, lowering his voice, "and the pillow was over my eyes because - because the sun was bright."

"You are _such_ a bad liar."

"I will thank you to keep such baseless accusations to yourself!"

"You are," she repeats, and suddenly there's something warm against his ear, and he whirls around to find her standing in front of him, right there, so close he would be touching her if his arms weren't pressed to his chest, "a horrible, terrible, _awful_ liar, Hu." The warmth is because she's practically whispering into his ear, and god help him if she gets any closer while she's only wearing a towel - "Did you like what you saw?" she asks, with a wink. "Hmm?"

There is absolutely nothing he can say in response to that, so he does the only thing that seems logical, which is to spin on his heel and run the hell away, down the beach and to the ocean. Even when he hears the Amarcian cracking up behind him and calling for him to come back, that it was only a joke and she was just messing with him, he doesn't turn around, doesn't say a word. He doesn't stop running until she and the ship are completely out of sight, and it's only then that he collapses on the sand and heaves out a huge sigh, holding his head in his hands and gasping for breath.

He isn't sure he's going to be able to survive like this - not because he's stranded on an island in the middle of nowhere, but because Pascal seems to enjoy teasing him, and because she's good at it -

- and because he really _is_ a bad liar, after all. Because he _had_, in fact, liked what he saw.

"If there is a god," he mutters, and looks briefly to the bright blue sky above him, "please strike me dead right now. I beg you."

He waits a few seconds, and when lightning doesn't rain down from the clouds and end his life, he begrudgingly rises to his feet, sighing again, and begins to remove his clothes. Perhaps he'll go for a swim and drown, or be stung by a monstrous jellyfish, or be eaten by a shark. He'll settle for anything to spare him the embarrassment of facing Pascal again.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Hubert arrives back at their camp in one piece, having found no sharks or jellyfish to mercifully end his life. When he draws close to the ship, he sees that Pascal has actually done some cleaning: the mattresses are leaning against the back side of the wreckage, and she's tied two lengths of rope from a back wing to two tall shoots of bamboo, creating an impromptu clothesline on which their sheets, a towel, and her clothing is draped. He finds her sitting in the doorway of the ship, her feet in the sand, fiddling with another broken bamboo shoot. She's dressed in casual clothing, a bright yellow short-sleeved shirt and dark blue shorts, and now that her hair is dry it looks wild and unusually fluffy. "Hey," she greets him, as he trudges over, and offers a lopsided smile, "I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to upset you - "

"I know." He exhales, lifting a hand to push wet locks of blue hair away from his forehead. "I apologize. I did... I did see - "

"Not important," she cuts him off, holding up one hand. "Don't you have any other clothes you can wear, Hu? If we're gonna be running around on an island all day, you don't need to be stuck in your stupid uniform."

"A - ah..." He glances down at his shirt and pants. "I suppose I can change..."

"Yeah! C'mon, get to it. And when you're all done..." She lifts herself up off the floor of the ship with a grunt, taking the bamboo with her. "... get back out here and help me with a plan to get us some food, 'kay? And bring your dirty clothes with you so I can hang 'em up."

Hubert gapes at her and wonders when exactly _she_ decided to be in charge, but he supposes there's no point in arguing about it. He watches her walk away from the door, and after a pause he enters the back of the ship, trying to remember where, exactly, he had chosen to store his overnight bag before the beginning of their trip. After some searching he locates it in the back of the mostly dark rest area, and - with a quick glance out the door, to ensure that his companion is not looking - strips off what remains of his dirty military uniform and changes into a far more comfortable pair of khaki pants and a short-sleeved shirt. He's uncomfortable in "normal" clothes, surprisingly, because he's used to wearing his uniform nearly every hour of every day... and he's fairly certain that Pascal has never even _seen_ him wearing anything else, so he inevitably begins to wonder what her reaction will be. He wonders to himself, as he gathers his discarded clothing (excluding his underwear - _that_ he will leave inside, out of her sight) and exits the ship, if she'll think that he looks as awkward as he feels.

"Now that's an improvement!" she exclaims, just as soon as he steps outside, and grins up at him from where she's sitting beside the door of the ship. "I bet you're a whole lot more comfortable now, yeah?"

He clears his throat and tugs at his collar, not sure what to make of that reaction. "I can't say that I am..."

"You'll get used to it, trust me." She springs to her feet and snatches the clothing out from between his hands, leaving him to gape at her a second time as she bounds off in the direction of the rope where she's draped her own clothes. "I'm gonna let this stuff air out," she calls over one shoulder, "so if you need to wear it again, it won't be all stinky."

He frowns slightly, following her. "If I may... at what point did you decide that cleanliness was important?"

She laughs, shaking her head at him as she tosses the garments in her arms over one of the ropes. "You sound just like Fourier right now. I dunno, maybe some of her nagging wore off on me. But y'know, if we're gonna be stuck here, I might as well make it bearable for the both of us, and I know how much you hate it when I do stuff like not take baths, so..." She turns, smiling up at him. "... I'm gonna do the best I can not to get on your nerves. Okay?"

As embarrassed as he still is from the earlier incident, Hubert is actually somewhat touched by this declaration. He manages a nod in response, and with that her smile widens and she spins away, walking back to where she'd been sitting with the piece of bamboo. "So," she begins, and again he obediently follows her as she moves, "I've got a _lot_ to do. I need to build some kind of structure thingie to stretch across our fire and make it easier to cook, and then we need to actually find something _to_ cook, like some fish, 'cause it doesn't sound like you're interested in eating bananas. Last night I was thinking we needed some more traps or alarms around the camp, but I dunno if the boars care about us now that our food is all gone and you gave 'em a good beating on top of it, so I might put that off. But I _do_ want to try building a boat or a raft or something so I can try to make it over to the big island and look at those ruins - "

"Hold on." He raises a hand, and she looks over her shoulder at him, blinking. "I would also like to know when you decided to be in charge of this entire operation."

She shrugs her shoulders, folding her arms behind her head. "Well, I'm the one who crashed the ship, so I should be responsible, shouldn't I?"

"You did _not_ crash the ship. The engine failed." He lowers his voice slightly, wondering if she is still reacting to his anger from the evening before, and again he feels guilty for speaking so harshly, for taking his frustration out on her. "Let's work together on these tasks. It isn't fair for you to burden yourself with everything."

"But..."

"I insist." He moves in the sand to stand beside her, looking out at the ocean that stretches before them, wide and vast and sparkling blue. "If you would like to build the campfire as you suggested last night, I will attempt to catch a fish or two for our breakfast. After we have a meal, we can consider our next steps."

"Aw, Hu, I'm so glad I'm stuck here with you and not somebody else. You're always so smart and rational and stuff." She flashes him a smile before bending to retrieve her abandoned piece of bamboo from the sand, and when she straightens it's passed rather easily into his hands. "Here," she says, and he notices that one of the ends has been sharpened into a dangerous looking point, presumably with her knife, "I was working on a spear for the fish. I dunno if it'll do the trick, but I figure it's worth a shot, yeah?"

He nods appreciatively at the bamboo - she's better with a knife than he remembers. "It will be far easier to try this rather than my weapon, or a fishing rod, considering we have no bait to speak of."

"Exactamundo!" she replies, whipping out what he assumes is another Pascal-ism, considering that word doesn't exist in any language he knows, and plants her hands on her hips. "So if you're gonna take care of that, I'll get to building us a sweet setup for cooking. And then we'll work together on all the other stuff, like the boat."

"You can't be serious about that."

"I totally am. We are gonna go explore those Amarcian ruins, or my name's not Pascal!" She grins. "Buuuut that all comes later. Get out there and catch us a fish!"

He sighs and wonders if it's worth arguing with her on that topic, but then his stomach rumbles and decides that can wait. He is hungry, and as much as he isn't looking forward to the task of attempting to spear wild fish with a makeshift weapon, he is_ not_ going to subsist entirely on bananas. His companion might be able to do it, but not him. So he obediently trudges down the beach to the shore, spear in hand, and prays again to whatever deity might listen for patience and good luck.

* * *

"Okay," Pascal says, hours later, bent so low over the makings of a raft that her nose nearly touches the bamboo she's currently fiddling with, "how about this one? If you had to choose between eating nothing but bananas for the rest of your life, 'cause everything else would make you _really_ super sick, or not ever having to eat again 'cause you'd never ever get hungry..."

"Why do all of your imaginary scenarios involve bananas?" Hubert sighs from where he sits just a few feet away, looking up from a notepad balanced against one knee, his pen stopping in the middle of a word. "Every single question you have asked me for the last half hour has included them. Do you think of nothing else?"

"Not really. I looooooove bananas!" She laughs, lifting her eyes to his and winking. "Don't you?"

"You know I do not."

"Oh well, you still gotta answer my question. No food ever again or only bananas?"

He sighs a second time, shaking his head at her, and drops his pen because she's been asking him these kinds of questions for thirty minutes and he has no hope whatever of getting any kind of report written at this rate. "I would much rather suffer through the sickness caused by other food sources than I would give up the opportunity to eat entirely. I would _not_ eat solely bananas."

"Hu!" She makes a face at him. "That's _not_ an option! It'd be like, a totally horrible illness! Like so bad you would _die_!"

"You didn't say that," he retorts, and waits until she huffs and bends over the bamboo again before allowing a small smile to sneak onto his face. As he watches his companion work - and she's pouting now, of course - he can't help but feel some surprise at how quickly the day has passed. He had expected their first full day as shipwrecked castaways to drag on for ages, boring him to death or driving him half-mad. But he's found that he doesn't miss civilization quite as much as he thought he might, and (more importantly) that Pascal is really very helpful in survival scenarios. He'd already thought to himself that he would rather be stranded with anyone else, but her resourcefulness has made her valuable to him in ways that he knows the others simply couldn't be.

By some stroke of good luck, he'd waded into the water with Pascal's handcrafted spear and found that the fish swimming merrily around his legs were extremely easy to catch. They were flighty and nervous, like most fish, but not fast enough to best his quick reflexes. He'd speared three of a decent size, much to his companion's delight, and although they'd both expressed some concern over the way saltwater fish would taste, they had both been too hungry to complain. By somewhere around ten in the morning, by Hubert's estimation, they had managed to cut the fish into manageable fillets and cook them over Pascal's new campfire setup. While he'd been busy catching their meal, she had retrieved several branches from the wooded area and cut them down to size, fashioning a rather reliable spit over a newly built fire.

After eating, Pascal had thrown herself into a new task, claiming she could build something that would convert salt water into drinking water. Hubert had watched her for all of two minutes before declaring he would be of no use to her, which she had rather cheerfully confirmed. He'd thought over their situation for a few moments before deciding that he needed to document their whereabouts and findings: upon his return to Strahta, he was certain that he would need to present the president with a full report, and there wouldn't be any harm in starting on it early.

He'd thankfully thought to pack a pad of paper and two pens in his bag, and he'd retrieved them from the ship and wished Pascal luck on her task before setting off. He'd walked slowly around the perimeter of the island, on the sandy beach that stretched the whole way around, jotting down thorough notes and observations that he expected to later stretch into full sentences for his report. In the hour that it had taken him to walk the length of the beach, he'd written two pages worth of notes, detailing what he'd seen before the ship had crashed, the weather, the temperature, and the animal and monster populations. He'd seen a few bright red crabs scuttling through the tide that he'd stopped to observe more closely, and at one point had drawn close to the wooded area to peer up at two birds snuggled together in the top branches of a tree. Upon reaching Pascal again, he'd noticed a few boars inching silently out of the trees in the direction of their ship, as if they were planning to sneak up on the Amarcian - or attempt to raid their camp again - and Hubert had promptly chased them away, even without his weapon at his side. "With their leader dead," he'd announced aloud to his giggling companion, rather haughtily, "those creatures are nothing but pests."

The next few hours had gone by rather quickly for both of them. Pascal had set up a large bowl wrapped in some kind of plastic that she'd placed in direct sunlight, saying it would give them a source of fresh water, and while he hadn't really believed her it had actually worked. After some time had passed, thanks to some kind of process involving evaporation and condensation, they'd found themselves with a full cup of fresh (albeit warm) water, which they'd shared between them before setting the bowl back up again. But what had occupied much of their late morning and early afternoon had been a project only she was determined to finish: a boat. Or - to be more accurate - a raft with sides. "Same freakin' thing," she'd remarked, rolling her eyes at Hubert's comments regarding the difference between what she was planning to build and an actual boat. "It floats and it doesn't dump you into the big blue. That's all that matters to me!"

"Assuming it actually floats," he'd muttered, and she'd proceeded to smack him in the arm and tell him to stop being such a pessimist.

Assembling the boat (or raft) had taken up quite a bit of time. Pascal had immediately snatched away Hubert's pad of paper and a pen and sketched out two pages worth of diagrams, sitting cross-legged on the sand and narrating the entire process out loud to him. He'd sat listening to her, dumbfounded, wondering when in the world she'd had time to think this up before arriving at the inevitable conclusion that she'd probably decided how best to build a boat years before, completely on a whim. After finishing the plans, she'd marched him into the wooded area with a knife and his weapon, and they'd proceeded to collect and cut down multiple stalks of bamboo. And after that, she'd marched him right back out onto the beach and started to direct the construction process. They'd sliced down the stalks into flat pieces, and she'd cut notches into them, and then - following her confusing but somehow solid as a rock diagrams - they'd begun to piece together what now, as Hubert glances up at it, actually resembles a boat. Whether or not it will _act_ like a boat still remains unknown.

"I'm almost done," Pascal comments, with a nod at him. "You're gonna help me test it out, right?"

"While I'm certain that your assembly is sound, I still fail to see how this - " He wrinkles his nose, searching for the right word. " - _contraption_ of yours is going to float. The material is certainly not strong enough to hold you, much less both of us, on a trip across the ocean."

"That's what you think, bub." She grins, bending low over one side again, and he can see that she's tying knots in a length of rope. He had been glad to find so much rope stored in the ship, but she's gone and used almost all of it on this thing - and her noisemakers from the evening before, he remembers. He hopes an occasion doesn't arise that necessitates tying something to a tree, because they will be entirely helpless. "Just wait a sec and I'll make you eat those words."

He scoffs. "I would rather eat something else. You do realize that it is getting very late already - "

"Uh, yeah, I _know_," she interrupts, waving a hand at him. "I'm starving! But if you hadn't distracted me all afternoon, I woulda gotten this done a whole heck of a lot faster."

"I - distracted you?!" He raises both eyebrows. "I beg to differ. _You_ were the one distracting_ me_. I could barely concentrate on the task at hand, considering your apparent desire to talk my ear off about one nonsensical topic or another."

"Huh, yeah, but not once did you - " She points at him without looking. " - tell me to shut up, now did you?"

"T - that's not the point!" he sputters. "I was trying to be - to be polite!"

"I _really_ don't believe you."

"Do you take me for a liar, Pascal?"

"Considering that this is the second time today you've lied to me? Yeah. I do." She looks up at him with another grin, and a certain mental image strikes Hubert so hard that he snaps his head away fast enough to crack his neck. The Amarcian immediately begins to laugh, and he's about to clear his throat and force himself to start scolding her for referring to_ that_ when he hears a scuffling sound on the sand. "Let's just say we're both at fault, yeah?" she asks, jumping to her feet and stretching her arms out above her head. "Oof, I am soooo stiff... We really shoulda finished this a lot earlier, but it was actually nice to have a conversation with somebody for a change."

He thinks about disagreeing, but she_ is_ right, after all. Garrett Oswell doesn't make for good conversation, and he has a feeling that Fourier's short temper extends to her sister - or is reserved almost entirely for her sister, perhaps - so he knows full well that the hours they'd spent talking about inane subjects while assembling a boat were precious ones indeed. He's forgotten, he realizes, just how easy it is to just talk to her. Pascal doesn't judge, or complain, or make snide comments about marriage, so even her off-topic, occasionally nonsensical ramblings are a very welcome change of pace. "Yes," he agrees, quietly, and gets to his feet, "we are both to blame, but it was... nice."

"See?" She beams at him, lowering her arms, and then she claps her hands together. "Okay, I think this thing is finished! Ready to try it out?"

Hubert looks at the boat-slash-raft on the sand and swallows. "To be perfectly honest - "

"I know what you're gonna say, and don't." She's still grinning and he's not sure if he likes that (although he has to admit that she is positively stunning when she grins, or even when she smiles, or even when she's not making any type of facial expression whatsoever). "You just gotta have faith in me, okay? A little blind faith in good ol' Pascal never killed anybody!"

"Are you absolutely certain about that?"

"Yep! I mean, except for my pet fish, I guess."

He sighs, lifting a hand to his forehead. "This is certainly not helping your case."

"Eh, probably not. But whatever! Doesn't matter now!" She claps her hands together again before bending at the waist and lifting one end of the boat from the beach. "So here's how this is gonna go," she begins, and for the second time in only a few hours, Hubert wonders exactly who left her in charge. "I'm gonna plop this sucker down right on the edge of the water, and you're gonna push me in deeper. Once it's far enough in that the sand's not gonna try to pull it back or down, you can climb on."

"H - hold on!" She doesn't even pause long enough for him to agree, simply marches down the beach in the direction of the water, dragging the boat behind her. "Pascal!" he calls, following, "there is no possible way that this thing you've built can support you, much less_ both_ of us at once - "

"You're being a pessimist again!" she calls over her shoulder.

He clenches his hands into fists. "I am being a_ realist_!"

"Nope, bzzt, wrong, incorrect, fail! You're being a pessimist, and a big grump on top of that." She rather casually tosses the boat down on the water's edge, straightening just long enough to look out at the ocean, one hand lifting to shade her eyes from the sun that's beginning to set in the distance. "Just trust me on this one, okay? I know what I'm doing."

"How many times have I heard you say those words?" he wonders aloud, rubbing his forehead. "And each and every time, you prove to me that you have absolutely no idea what you are doing after all. But..."

"But?" She turns to look at him, and she's smiling now, as if she knows exactly what he's going to say - and she probably does, because they've been doing this for two years, and god help him, he can't possibly bring himself to actually be angry with her. "It always works out, doesn't it?"

"But," he says again, and paces close to her, fighting back the urge to smile, "you have a spectacular way of... winging it, I suppose you could say."

"That's the spirit!" she returns, and promptly gives the boat a swift kick with one bare foot, watching it catch the very edge of the tide and pull slowly back out into the shallow water that laps at the shore. "Okay," she says, and wades into the water beside the floating contraption, "so I'm gonna get up on this, and you're gonna push me out a little bit, okay? But not too far, 'cause if you go in too deep and try to get in - "

"I have no intention of capsizing us." He's already bent to roll up the legs of his pants, grimacing just slightly at the sight of sand and dirt on the fabric. Oh well, he thinks, he'll be home before too long, and he'll worry about washing his clothes - and taking a proper bath - then. "Go ahead."

"Alrighty!" She hops onto the bamboo so easily that Hubert stops what he's doing and prepares immediately to rush to the water to drag her out - but much to his surprise, the boat doesn't sink, and doesn't even appear to_ budge_. He doesn't realize he's staring until Pascal looks over her shoulder at him, one pale eyebrow quirked. "Well? Are you coming?"

"Y - yes, sorry." He hurries to meet her, shivering once as the chilly water meets his toes and flows around his ankles. He bends and begins to push her steadily out into the ocean, past the small waves that are crashing into the shore, and the water is up to his knees and just over the bottom of his pants when he hears a delighted giggle from his side. He stops to look, and... well, what can he say? She's right, after all, and he's actually glad for it. "You're floating," he observes, rather stupidly. "I... didn't expect this to work..."

"I noticed." She smiles, scooting back against one side of the boat, and gestures at him. "Think you can hop up here with me? You're not in too deep, so it should hold."

"Are you absolutely certain," he starts, then decides against it, because she probably isn't sure of anything at all, so why bother asking? He makes a silent wish for success before taking hold of the side of the boat in both hands and jumping off the wet sand. The bamboo rocks a little and Pascal shrieks, but the momentum is enough to get him into the boat without dumping them both into the water. He rights himself and sits completely still for a moment, and it's only when she begins to giggle again that he realizes he's holding his breath. "Well," he says, slowly, looking down at the bamboo beneath him, "_this_ is a surprise."

"Honestly? I thought we'd spring a leak or twelve right away, but this thing's holding pretty tight." There's genuine delight in her voice, the same kind of breathless, excited happiness he can't get enough of, and he thinks for just a second that he would let her build bamboo rafts all day if it meant he'd hear her talk like this. "Do you know how lucky we were to get stranded on an island with so much bamboo? It's like, the lightest material in the world, but it's super strong and it _floats_. Once I figured out how to connect it all together so the seams were solid and there were no cracks, I knew we were gonna be golden."

He lifts his eyes to hers, chuckling quietly. "You knew, did you?"

"Well, I guessed, but - close enough!" She laughs, looking around them at the ocean, her amber eyes practically sparkling in the golden light of the setting sun. "Now all we need is a pair of paddles and we are all set to go to that island and explore those ruins!"

"I should have known that you would find a way to get there."

"Nothing's going to stop _me_ from exploring Amarcian ruins!" She leaps to her feet, apparently forgetting where she is, and the boat responds by rocking dangerously. "What kind of Amarcian would I be if I didn't go poking around in the labs of my ancestors, huh?"

"P - Pascal - " He leans forward, grabbing at the sides of their boat with both hands. "Sit _down_!"

"Noooo way! This thing is solid enough even to hold me standing up! And I built it this way, 'cause I'm the pride of the Amarcians!" She jabs a thumb at her chest, grinning broadly. "There's nothing in this entire freakin' world that can hold _me_ down, Hu! I'm gonna get over to that island, and I'm gonna explore the _heck_ out of it! And then - "

A wave causes the boat to rock from back to front, and the movement is just enough to knock Pascal off of her feet. She tumbles backwards into the water with a yelp and a splash, and Hubert groans, getting up on his knees and carefully inching over to the place where she had been sitting. "And then," he says, as she comes to the surface spitting water, a mess of red and white hair plastered to her face, "you are hopefully going to think long and hard about why standing up on even the most stable surface in the middle of the ocean is a very _bad_ idea."

"Very funny." She lifts a dripping hand from the water with a groan, pushing her bangs out of her eyes. "I just lost my balance, is all."

"Perhaps if you hadn't gone leaping to your feet proclaiming you were the pride of Amarcia, I would not be the only one sitting here completely dry." He can't help but smirk as he leans over the side of the boat, offering her both hands. "Come on. Unless you'd like to swim ashore - "

She begins to grin rather devilishly. "What was that you said about being completely dry?"

He immediately tries to back away. "Don't you_ dare_ - !"

"I think you need to come swimming with me!" she announces gleefully, and throws her weight against the end of the boat. He's tossed immediately over the side into the water, and narrowly avoids colliding with her as he goes headfirst into the ocean. He comes up coughing and shivering, forcing his glasses back up on his nose with one hand, and is thankful that the water isn't quite deep enough to keep him from getting his footing on the bottom. "Pascal," he starts, between coughs, "that was_ not_ funny!"

"Wasn't it? 'cause I thought it was hilarious!" She confirms this fact by throwing her head back and laughing, reaching out with one hand to clap him hard on the shoulder. "You're all wet!"

"S - so are you!"

"Yeah, but it's_ way_ funnier with _you_. Your hair's all crazy and your glasses are dripping and you look like a drowned rat!" She hoots, and then she actually snorts mid-laugh, and the sound makes her dissolve into uncontrollable giggles. "Hu - oh my gosh - "

He plants his hands on his hips, forgetting for a moment that she can't see them, considering that most of his body is underwater. "And you," he starts, "look no better. You look like - like - like a drowned Amarcian!"

"Good one!" she says, giggling harder, and Hubert flushes with embarrassment. He's about to open his mouth and tell her off properly when she squeezes his shoulder, swimming closer to him. Before he can even think about moving, she has both arms wound loosely around his neck, and he realizes immediately that those soft pink lips of hers are only a few precious inches away. "Sorry," she apologizes, "I probably shouldn't have done that. I mean, any of that. But especially the whole dumping you into the water part."

"... it's fine." He glances away, swallowing with some difficulty, his heart beginning to race. She's so close to him, and her clothing is clinging to her like a second skin, and if he looks too long he's going to be in serious trouble - "We should get to shore," he says, and tries to pretend that his love interest isn't holding on to him, that her amber eyes aren't fixed right on his, "before you catch a cold."

"You don't wanna go for a swim, huh?"

"No, I do not want to go for a swim." He sighs. "Have you no common sense?"

"Hmmm... nope. Not really." Suddenly she's even closer to him, her arms tightening around his neck, and the absolute shock that accompanies the feeling of her body against his makes it nearly impossible for him to realize that she's hugging him. "Thanks, Hu," she murmurs, and laughs quietly. "Really."

"W - w - why are you - thanking me - ?"

"Because I'm having fun." She draws back and presses her lips to his cheek, and Hubert isn't sure how he manages to stay standing upright when her mouth is so close to his, when he wants to kiss her more than he even wants to breathe or sleep or get out of this water. "And because you went along with me, even thought you thought I was wrong."

He wonders if she can tell that he's trembling. "Y - you don't have to thank me for that - "

"But I do," she interrupts, and leans back a little more, and when her eyes meet his Hubert is certain that he is going to kiss her, that he _has_ to kiss her, because she's right there and smiling at him like she wants it, like she wants_ him_, and his heart is afraid of breaking but he has never been this insufferably _close_ to the girl -

- and then the boat smacks rather suddenly into the side of his head, and Pascal begins to howl with laughter again, and the moment is completely and irrevocably ruined.

* * *

It takes a change of clothes, a blanket around her shoulders, a lit campfire, and nearly an hour before Pascal stops shivering and complaining about being cold. Hubert somehow manages to keep himself from commenting each time she whines - save the first time, when he matter-of-factly tells her it is her fault and that he is cold, too. The two of them had both rather quickly changed clothes and tossed their dripping garments over the makeshift clotheslines attached to the back of the ship, and as Pascal had curled into a ball beneath a blanket in front of a newly lit campfire, Hubert had gone out in search of some more fish for dinner.

He'd been successful again, and they'd roasted the caught fish over the fire and eaten them together; Hubert had been glad for the supplies left in the kitchen, because it'd meant that they were able to eat with silverware and use plates like somewhat dignified people. Pascal had complained a little about the lack of seasoning - and the expectation that they'd be eating wild fish for three meals a day - until he'd suggested trying some of the crabs he'd seen on the beach, to which she'd perked right up. He hadn't known her to be a fan of seafood, and he'd been certain to stash that tidbit of knowledge away somewhere safe to rely on again in the future... or so he hoped, anyway.

As the sun dips below sea level and shades of blue begin to creep into the sky overhead, they sit side-by-side in front of the fire, their plates placed aside in the sand. Hubert's mind is wandering, but he keeps coming back to the same thing, the same memory, still fresh enough to make his heart beat a little faster. He'd wanted so badly to kiss her, he thinks, despite all his rationality and the way he's convinced himself that showing any sign of affection for her is simply wrong. He remembers how she'd looked at him, right at him, those bright eyes of hers fixed on his, and it had been as if she was waiting for something - but no, it just isn't possible that she would have _wanted_ that, of all things. Pascal's kisses on the cheek aren't romantic, they're friendly, and even her warmest hugs aren't delivered with any kind of expectation -

"Hu?" she pipes up, and he sees her shrug the blanket off her shoulders, leaning forward slightly. "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing," he answers; then, because he knows full well that she's going to pry until he says something, "fishing."

"Fishing, huh?"

"Yes."

"You were making an awfully funny face just now." She laughs, reaching for a small, broken branch that rests on the very edge of the fire in front of them. "Like you were thinking about something totally complex."

"I was making a face?"

"Yeah. Haven't you noticed? Whenever you get deep in thought, you start frowning, and your eyebrows get all close together, and your nose kinda scrunches up, and sometimes your eyes even sorta glaze over." She nods, confidently, and he stares at her for a moment. He hadn't noticed that at all. "You used to pull those faces all the time when we were traveling. Like Asbel or Captain would start talking to you about something, or you'd be coming up with weird battle strategies, and you'd get just like that."

"I see." He rubs his chin with one hand. "I hadn't realized you were watching me... think."

"Oh, yeah! I used to watch everybody, actually. People watching is totally fun when you're bored." She smiles. "You know what Cheria used to do when she was thinking hard about something? And by something I mean Asbel?" She laughs, and even he has to smile at that added comment. "She'd start sorta staring sideways at the ground, and bite her lip, and then she'd usually start to blush. It was the same every time. And Richard would close his eyes, and sorta move his mouth like he was talking, but not out loud, and nod a whole bunch."

"I never noticed any of this."

"Well, duh, cause you weren't looking! But I was." She beams at him. "Whether you realize it or not, I got to know everybody pretty well over the course of those trips. I could tell you things about your own brother that you probably don't even know."

"I would ask you to share, but I am really not that curious." He folds his hands together. "It's been quite a while since I have seen everyone, though. The last time the entire group was together was at Asbel and Cheria's wedding, and even that was over a year ago."

"I know. This might be weird, but not seeing everyone is kinda like being away from my own family. I mean, I don't have much family to speak of, just Fourier and my grandpa, I guess, but..." She starts to poke at the fire with the branch in her hand, and in the soft orange glow Hubert can see her shoulders sink, as if she's sighing silently. "I've at least seen you, and Captain, but I haven't even had a chance to visit Richard or Sophie. Everybody's so busy now..."

He chuckles softly, probably not loud enough for her to hear. "You miss traveling with everyone, don't you?"

"Is it really that obvious?" She looks over at him, and when he nods, she exhales loudly. "Yeah... I do. I can't help it, y'know? It's probably the greatest thing that ever happened to me. I thought I was happy running around Fendel and Windor on my own and stuff, and helping people out every now and then, but when I bumped into Asbel and Richard and Sophie, it was like... it kind of felt like it was meant to be. Even when it was crazy stressful and we were fighting really tough monsters, I still had fun." She smiles again, this time at him. "And I know you're gonna deny it, but I'm pretty sure you had fun too, Hu."

"I did," he admits, easily, watching her expression shift into one of surprise. "... somehow. It would be an exaggeration to say that I miss it, but I did appreciate the opportunity to travel the world freely."

"Oh, yeah, 'cause now you're stuck in Strahta, huh?"

"... "stuck" would be an altogether accurate way to describe my feelings, yes." He isn't quite sure why he's telling her this - he hasn't told _anyone_ this - but it's Pascal, not his brother or Cheria or Captain Malik, so somehow it seems acceptable. She's never been one to go broadcasting his secrets to the world, and he doesn't expect her to start now. "At times, I wish I had an excuse to leave my post in the military and explore Ephinea again. I am tied to my desk each and every day, filling out mountains of paperwork to approve the most minor actions of my troops. I am glad for the peace that has come to our three nations, but..."

"I getcha. You really aren't the type of guy who wants to be sitting still."

"It isn't that." He shakes his head. "I enjoy combat, yes, but it isn't as if it's necessary. I just - I feel useless." He clenches his hands together, swallowing. "I would be content with spending my time in my office if it meant that I was doing something worthwhile, or contributing to the improvement of our nation, but all I am able to do is approve monster eradication actions and sign off on reassignments and - and review things as mundane as new uniform suggestions for the military - " He scoffs, his eyebrows drawing together. "That is why I miss traveling. I was directly influencing the development of the world, and able to assist my men, rather than watch over them from the sidelines. Right now, it's as if I am merely frozen in place, while everyone else..." At this he pauses, because he's about to go too far, and there's no reason for this rant of his to get any more personal than it already has -

"Everybody else is moving forward while you're stuck in the same spot, right?"

He lifts his eyes to hers, surprised. "What - how - "

She laughs quietly. "I know exactly how you feel. It's the same way for me."

"It - it is?"

"Yeah." She nods. "Don't get me wrong, it's not like I'm unhappy, but... It seems like everybody I know has grown up and moved on in the last couple years, and I'm just standing still. Asbel and Cheria got married and had their kid, Sophie and Richard are spending a bunch of time together... heck, even Captain's talking about settling down, and my sister's been getting marriage proposals from random guys in Fendel who think she's a "catch." If they only knew." Hubert can't help but smile at the way she snorts after making this comment. "I've been doing everything I can to keep myself busy," she continues, "and it's really great to see how much my work has helped change things all around the world, you know? But sometimes I..."

He leans forward. "What is it?"

"It's nothing..."

"Pascal... please. You know you can tell me anything." Okay, that has to be the most desperate-sounding thing he has ever said in his life. "I mean to say," he tries to recover, "that I will - listen to you, and I will not judge you. If - if you feel the need to share..."

"... it's lonely, sometimes," she says, apparently without paying any mind to his verbal fumble, and Hubert is left to gape at her, surprised. He would have never expected _those_ words to come out of her mouth - out of _Pascal's_ mouth, the lively young woman who has done nothing but throw herself into projects and come bouncing into his office with one wild scheme after another... but it makes sense, doesn't it? It makes so much sense that he shouldn't even be surprised. Of _course_ she would be lonely; she'd even said as much herself, before, told him that no one else ever wanted to go with her - "Sorry," she murmurs, suddenly, and turns her head away. "That was a dumb thing to say. It really isn't that bad."

"Don't lie." He wants to pull her into his arms and hold her and kiss the top of her head and tell her that everything will be fine, that he will stay by her side, that he will be the one to keep her from being lonely, but he can't, he _won't_ do such a thing, not when his heart is at stake. He settles for reaching out and taking hold of one of her hands, winding his fingers around her slender wrist even though the warmth of her skin against his own makes him tremble almost instantly. "_Please_ don't lie," he urges her. "There is no need for you to keep your feelings inside."

Her voice is unsteady and he doesn't like the sound of it. "Hu, it's not like you have to be concerned or anything - "

"I _am_ concerned. I don't want you to be alone. I don't want you to feel this way."

"But what..."

"If," he starts, and as afraid as he is, he has to say this, has to tell her _something_, "if you ever feel alone, I will be here for you. If you would like someone to listen, or someone to give you advice, or someone to - to - for _any_ purpose, Pascal, I will be here until you don't need me any longer."

There's silence between them for a moment so long that it's borderline uncomfortable, and Hubert swallows hard, thinking he should move his hand - but then Pascal lifts her head and_ laughs_, and the sound is so clear and beautiful that his heart stops and doesn't seem like it's going to start again. She turns to face him, scooting closer on the sand, and when she leans forward and stretches her arms up around his shoulders and hugs him for the second time that day, he's pretty sure he's seconds from going into cardiac arrest. "You really are good at cheering me up," she says into his ear, laughing again. "Especially when I'm being stupid."

"Y - you aren't being stupid - "

"I kind of am." He feels her chin fall to rest against one of his shoulders, and he thinks he should probably hug her back but he's unable to move. "I'm not alone. Not at all. I've got you, don't I?" He stutters and tries to come up with something to say, but she continues, tightening her arms around him. "Thanks. I mean, again. I always feel like I'm bothering you when I drop by, especially because it seems like I'm constantly getting you in hot water with the prez, but... honestly, Hu, we have so much fun when we're together. I'm starting to think being with you is even better than traveling with everyone else."

Hubert's pretty sure he's going to die here on this island and that Pascal will have to bury him in the sand and make a gravestone out of branches. Here lies Hubert Oswell, dead of heart failure after his love interest of three years said something nice to him. "I'm glad," he manages, "you feel that way. But I - " What the_ hell_ is he supposed to say_ now_? "I - I can't be better than the others - "

She cuts him off easily. "Shut up and let me be nice to you."

He clenches his teeth together. "... yes, ma'am."

She laughs again at this, practically howls, and the sound is so endearing that he finally finds the courage to move, carefully raising a hand to pat her softly on the back. She smiles at him, and then she moves, shifting so she's sitting right beside him. "You know," she begins as she settles down in the sand, leaning close, and her head drops onto his shoulder and he has to literally bite down on his tongue so he doesn't make any kind of embarrassing noise, "this isn't so bad, being on this island with you."

"It - is - it isn't - ?"

"Nope."

"B - but - "

"Honestly," she continues, and he can hear the smile in her voice, "I'm really glad it's you. I know I said that already, but I mean it."

A wave of guilt sweeps over Hubert at this declaration, because all he's been able to think since arriving on the island is that he'd rather be here with someone, anyone else. And as he moves his eyes to look at Pascal, just for a moment, he thinks that now might be a good time to change his mind on that subject.

"I'm glad it's you, too," he says, softly, and when one of her hands reaches for his and their fingers twine tight together, he feels sure that he actually means it.


	4. indigo

**author's note: **This chapter has been a pain in my ass for _weeks_. I knew ahead of time that it would the hardest to write, and also the longest, and it certainly lived up to both of my expectations. Hopefully it's worth it for all of you, even though it is really, really, _really_ long.

Since I've been doing a lot of writing in advance of this part, the rest of the fic should follow pretty quickly after this. Get ready!

* * *

**islands in the sea**  
chapter four -_ indigo  
_

* * *

Hubert wakes early the next morning, an hour after dawn by his estimate, to the sound of soft snoring at his back. He lies still on his side for nearly a minute, listening carefully as he slowly wakes, before reaching for the pair of glasses placed on the very edge of his mattress. When he shifts on the bed and rolls in the direction of the snoring, he has to stifle a gasp of surprise: Pascal is no longer on her bed, but has instead rolled onto his.

He freezes, on his back with his head turned to the side, his glasses still held in one hand, and wonders what in the world he can possibly do. The Amarcian lies curled on her side with a thin blanket tangled around her body - the same blanket she'd used to warm herself in front of the campfire, hours before - and an arm tucked beneath a pillow - _his_ pillow. She's only inches away from him, and appears to be sleeping peacefully, apparently completely unaware of the fact that she's giving the man awake beside her heart palpitations.

Save the times he'd hidden in his mother's bed during storms as a child, Hubert has never slept (or even laid) this close to a woman before. He's been raised to abide by the belief that the sharing of a bed is reserved only for husband and wife, regardless of what such sharing may actually entail. He'd agreed to sleeping on a mattress by hers on the sand because he hadn't wanted them to be separated in the event of danger, but he certainly hadn't expected them to get any closer to one another than they already had. But now, as he hesitantly slides his glasses onto his face and gets a better look at the woman sleeping beside him... now they are _very_ close. It's not as if they're touching, or that they've done anything even mildly inappropriate, but even so...

He thinks about moving, but his heart actually aches at the thought of getting out of bed and leaving her alone, so he stays. He doesn't realize he's watching her sleep until he catches himself reaching out with one hand to brush a lock of hair out of her face; he jerks his arm back and places it rigidly at his side again, frowning, irritated with himself for losing control. He doesn't want to leave her, but he shouldn't be here, beside her, not like this. It's wrong and it's tempting and she's oh so_ close_, and he has to wonder if she'd rolled over next to him on purpose. She hadn't been quite herself, the evening before, had kept him awake late talking about nonsensical topics again, and he'd been worried about her being lonely. So he can't rule out the possibility that she'd woken up and decided to snuggle close, and...

He swallows, feeling his heart fluttering in his chest like some kind of caged bird, and closes his eyes to keep himself from looking at her, from wanting to touch her and stroke her hair and slip his arms around her and kiss her until his lips are bruised. He doesn't know or care what this means, if it means anything at all, because all it's doing is making his feeling of wanting even more severe, almost painful. After barely a day and a half on the island, he already doesn't think he can keep himself from wanting more from her than he should.

He loves her, without rhyme or reason, has spent more than two years loving her and wanting to do nothing but tell her the way he feels. But he has no courage, no desire to risk his heart, not when he doesn't know what she thinks of him. And his worst fear is that what she thinks will turn out to be nothing at all, that one day he'll watch her walk away with another man - that he'll never even have the chance to hold her close and tell her that he loves her, that he would give up _everything_ for her if it meant she would be happy for even a moment.

It's against his better judgement that he rolls away from her, off of the mattress, and rises to his feet on the sand, but she only stirs and doesn't wake. He pauses, looking down at her sleeping soundly, and it actually hurts. And even when he gathers a change of clothes and trudges down the beach with the intention of taking a bath, the pain doesn't stop.

* * *

When he trudges back to their camp nearly half an hour later, having floated on his back in the ocean for quite some time trying to convince himself that he would be fine and that it didn't matter how either of them felt, Pascal is nowhere in sight. He's throwing his third set of clothing over the ropes and beginning to inspect the previously soaked shirt and pants from the evening before when the Amarcian comes bounding out of the ship, dressed in a tight striped tank top and denim shorts. "Hey hey!" she greets him, grinning broadly. "Where'd you get off to so early?"

"I was bathing."

"Ooh yeah, totally forgot about doing that." She plants her feet in the sand and puts her hands on her hips, giving him a look that he knows from experience means trouble. "Ready to go?"

"... _go?_"

"Yeah, _go!_ You know, to the big island!"

He sighs, stepping back from the clotheslines. "Pascal, it is still very early in the morning. Not only do we need to eat some kind of breakfast before even beginning to think of traveling, we haven't fashioned any kind of paddle or oar to help move the raft, assuming it remains floating and is capable of getting us both there and back without certain death. And we haven't even considered the possibility of sharks or other dangerous sea life pouncing on us, _or_ the other islands being populated by dangerous monsters - "

"Pessimist," she interrupts, still grinning.

" - and you haven't _bathed_!" he finishes, undeterred by her remark. "Not to mention that your sister may attempt to contact us while we are away, and I know full well that you haven't been checking the communication device very often at all."

"I just checked it. Seriously, like ten seconds ago." She folds her arms behind her head, looking up at him with an absolutely careless expression, and Hubert isn't sure if he envies her ability to ignore danger or wants to smack her upside the head for it. He mostly just wants to take her by the shoulders and shake her until she promises to_ listen_ to him, for once. "Look, Hu, I get that you're worried. And that's totally cool. But - "

"It is not_ cool_," he interjects, scoffing, "at_ all_. I am trying to be_ realistic_. We are much safer staying on this island than we are venturing out in a boat. What if we are caught in a storm and drowned? What if we find the other island populated with monsters? What if - " He sees that her expression isn't changing at all, that she's not getting upset or smiling or laughing at him, that she's just standing there listening. "What if," he starts again, and forgets what he was planning to say. "... what?" he asks her, confused.

"Nothing. I'm just hearing you out, is all."

He gapes at her and makes an absolutely embarrassing noise. "Buh - ?"

"I get it, I said. You're worried. And I'm glad you're worried. _I_ sure as heck don't take these things into consideration. You know that just as well as I do." She nods. "But sometimes you worry a little too much, y'know? And it keeps you from ever having any fun. Unless you take a chance every now and then, Hu, you're never going to be happy." She turns away from him, spinning to face the ocean. "Sometimes it really is better to risk everything than it is to sit around being scared all the time. Even if you get hurt... at least you went for it."

Hubert closes his mouth, opens it, and then closes it again. He knows she's talking about their trip, but it feels like she could be talking about something else, too - about the way he's feeling for her, and how scared he's been of acting -

"That's what I think, anyway." She looks over her shoulder at him, and her gaze is still level, her voice steady. "And that's why we make a good team, isn't it? You're always careful and smart and super prepared, and I come up with all the crazy ideas that usually work out but go running right into things without ever thinking twice. If it wasn't for you, I'd probably be dead. But if it wasn't for me, you'd never have any fun."

"Why are you saying this?" he asks her, too dumbfounded to do anything but speak his mind. "You've never said _anything_ like this - "

"I dunno. Maybe 'cause you were trying so hard to cheer me up last night? I kinda feel like I should return the favor. You seem totally irritated right now, so..." She looks back in the direction of the ocean again. "I know you already told me that you're just angry with the situation we're stuck in, and that it's not me that's upsetting you, but... I guess I still feel like I have to work extra hard to make you happy."

His chest starts to ache again. "Pascal..."

"... yeah. So, hey, if you don't want to go to the island, it's no big deal! It probably is going to be pretty dangerous, and - " Her voice starts to waver just slightly. " - and, I mean, I can go by myself. That way you don't have to worry me about dumping you into the water again, right?" She laughs, but the sound is forced and makes his pain even worse. "... right?"

"Pascal," he starts again, and walks to her, swallowing down the lump in his throat, "stop."

"Stop what, Hu? I'm just saying - "

"I will most certainly _not_ allow you to make such a journey alone. If you are set on being torn apart by monsters or eaten by sharks, it is my duty to be right there with you." He stops when he arrives by her side, and reaches out to ruffle her hair without looking, pretending that he isn't blushing and that this still doesn't feel awkward and stupid. "I promised to protect you. You must allow me to do at least that."

She sounds shocked. "B - but - "

"And," he cuts her off, lifting his hand, "I am not upset with you. I have _never_ been upset with you. Surely you must know that by now." He frowns, looking out at the ocean, still not brave enough to meet her eyes with his. "Furthermore, you are under no obligation to worry about my happiness. If we are to be journeying a mile across an unfamiliar sea to explore a potentially dangerous island, my feelings are the_ last_ thing you should be concerned with."

He waits after saying this, not daring to look at her or give any further indication of his thoughts. There's almost a full minute of silence before he hears her give a loud sigh, and when he glances to his side he sees her shaking her head. "You really know what to say in times like this, don't you?"

He clears his throat. "You did say that I seemed good at cheering you up."

"I dunno what to think of you sometimes, Hu." She laughs softly, and the tremor in her voice is already gone. "Are you sure you wanna go? I really don't mind heading over there by myself..."

"I am absolutely certain." He crosses his arms. "Your sister would murder me in cold blood if I returned with the report that I had allowed you to drown while crossing the ocean to explore Amarcian ruins."

She laughs again, and he finally allows himself a glance in her direction; her expression is shifting into a smile, and she lifts a hand to smooth her hair, her words coming steady now. "So you'd rather drown with me, huh?"

"Well," he starts, "I would at least make some attempt to save us first."

"Can you even swim?" she teases.

"That is beside the point!" He huffs and turns away, moving in the direction of the ship, listening to her burst into giggles behind him. "Let's get this over with."

"Aye aye, captain!" she returns, and then she giggles again, and Hubert tries his hardest to hide the smile on his mouth as she comes to help him gather their supplies, because it really_ is_ good to hear her laugh.

* * *

After retrieving their weapons and packaging a bag full of items for their trip - and eating a hasty breakfast of bananas, which Hubert begrudgingly accepts as a necessary sacrifice for him to make - Pascal drags their boat to the shore and they shove out into the water. They still don't have paddles or oars, but as the Amarcian demonstrates, they don't even need them: a wind arte cast carefully behind the boat sends them moving steadily north, in the direction of the large island.

The trip is surprisingly uneventful, even with Pascal leaning half-off the raft and her shotstaff almost touching the water. The boat holds and doesn't leak, doesn't even rock dangerously, and they cross the distance of about a mile in less than an hour's time. When they reach the safety of land and drag the boat ashore, to a patch of sand as far away from the water as possible, they are faced with a familiar sight: the middle of the island holds a dense cluster of tall trees, tangled vines, and lengthy stalks of bamboo. They both groan and complain at length, but it's obvious that they have no choice, and the only thing they can do is work to create a path.

By the time they cut their way through the maze of vines and bamboo and sight the ruins through the trees, another hour passes. At the end of it, Hubert is tired and sore, and Pascal is surely in the same state, but she seems to immediately catch a second wind when they emerge from the jungle and step into a small clearing. Before them is an obviously aged, run-down building of some kind - the Amarcian ruins, of course, that they've been working so hard to reach - and at the sight of them her eyes go wide. "Oh my gosh," she chirps, clapping her hands together, "look at_ that_!"

For a moment they stand quietly together, looking at the ruins in front of them; Hubert allows his eyes to sweep from one side to the other, taking in the sight of broken columns that border some kind of door, elaborate decoration, and a high roof that appears broken in certain places. The earth around the building's foundation is cracked and dusty, lacking grass in patches, and he thinks he sees what might be a hole along one side. "This place is definitely old," he hears his companion observe. "Probably even older than the ruins underneath Wallbridge..."

"How are you able to tell?"

"Eh, it's kind of an educated guess, but those columns - " She points in their direction. " - and the other accents, too, aren't there for any reason other than for decoration. Most Amarcian builders and architects eventually abandoned the idea of doing anything that wasn't, like, absolutely necessary. But back when they were still being inspired by the designers in Windor, they did fancy stuff like that all the time." She nods. "But these are Amarcian, alright."

He cracks his knuckles, flexing his sore arms a few times. "The building appears to have endured a significant amount of damage," he comments, "at least on the outside. I fear the passage of time has not been kind on your ruins."

"Yeah, I see that..." She bites her lip. "Kinda worries me. We'll have to be careful when we go in, 'cause if the foundation's weak, the floor might drop out underneath us."

"Excellent." He exhales. "And we must still be concerned with the possibility of monsters."

"Well, none so far, right? But I guess... if there were any, they'd be hiding out somewhere safe, huh?" She laughs nervously. "Now that you mention it, I'm pretty glad I didn't come here alone."

"As am I." He checks the belt around his hips to ensure that both sides of his weapon are securely holstered in place, taking a glance at the staff on her back while he's at it, and then clears his throat. "Shall we proceed?"

They walk forward together in the direction of the door, taking care to step over cracks and avoid upturned rocks as they draw close. The door left between the elaborate columns is made of wood and half rotted away, and a mere push from Pascal results in the entire thing falling off its hinges and dropping in pieces to the floor. "Well that takes care of that," she says, laughing. "And here I was worried we'd have trouble getting in."

"Apparently not." They step over what remains of the door and enter the building. The first room is very large, and to Hubert appears to be some kind of lobby. The floor, though dusty and damaged, is made up of stone tiles pushed tight together, and there are several more ornamental columns in the corners and in various places on the open floor. There's a pile of wood and various rubble near the entrance - what might have once been a desk, he thinks - and a few half-broken chairs and what may have even been a table on the right side of the area. "Interesting," he murmurs, frowning slightly, and glances to the ceiling, which is spotted with holes of various sizes that allow sunlight to flood the room. "How long do you think this building has been here?"

"Without some testing I wouldn't be able to tell you, but we've gotta be looking at the thousand year mark." She steps forward a few paces, turning her head from side to side - and then suddenly freezes, spinning around to look at him. "Hu, come here! Quick!"

He obeys, blinking down at her. "What is - "

"Listen," she silences him, and he is still, lifting his head. He doesn't really hear anything, save what might be a soft gust of wind outside, but... but there is something off, something he can just barely hear, a steady sound somewhere within the building. "Maybe I'm losing it," Pascal starts, quietly, "but I think I hear running water."

"Impossible." He gapes at her. "We are inside a building on the middle of an island. There can't_ possibly_ be a source of water here - "

"Come on!" she cuts him off, and jogs in the direction of the back of the room. Hubert reminds himself, as he follows, that the word "impossible" just doesn't exist in Pascal's vocabulary, and the more he says it, the harder she will try to prove him wrong. When they reach the back of the room they find two elaborately decorated doors, one of which is open and appears to lead down a hallway to a room with even more doors. The other is closed, but the Amarcian slides it almost effortlessly aside and charges through it. "WHOA!" she yells, and when he follows, even _he_ has to fight back the urge to shout. "How in the heck - ?" she continues, and turns wide eyes up at him. "Am I freaking _dreaming_ right now?!"

"I don't think you are," he murmurs, and surveys the scene in front of them. The room isn't so much a room as it is some kind of indoor habitat. The tiles on the floor give way to green blades of grass, and although there's a ceiling it's made of some kind of grated material, allowing sunlight to pour in over everything. Several trees are clustered together on one side, and Hubert sees fruit on the grass by their trunks - and more hanging from some of the lower branches. But what gives them both pause is the fact that there _is_ water running in this room: there's a tall metal contraption connected to a back wall made of stone, and a pipe at its bottom feeds water into a small creek that runs through the grass in a narrow "U" shape. The other end of the creek leads back to another large pipe, presumably taking the water back outside the building. "This is amazing," he observes.

"Look!" Pascal grabs his arm and tugs, pointing with her other hand, and that's when they notice the animals. There are long-eared rabbits of various colors behind the trees, some snoozing while others hop through the grass, and small birds are perched in the branches, fluttering their wings. "Holy _cow_," she breathes, "this is like some kind of mini ecosystem..."

"Have you ever seen anything like this?"

"No, but I..." She lets out a long breath. "I can't _believe_ this! I read about this once, but I never thought I'd actually _find_ it. Supposedly there was a test a really long time ago on water purification, and... I kinda think this is it." She gestures to the metal on the back wall. "One of my ancestors wrote about using evaporation, humidity, and a boiler to essentially remove salt from ocean water to make it suitable for drinking. That's how I knew how to do what I did back on our island, though it was on a way smaller scale. The thing is, this guy didn't want to test it on people, so he said he did it on animals, and..." She laughs, shaking her head. "... and wanted to see how long an environment could thrive around a source of purified water. Wow, I can't even believe that this is real..."

He watches the rabbits, lifting one hand to his chin. "Assuming that this door hasn't been opened in hundreds of years... this means that the environment within this building has thrived for a very long time."

"You can say that again." She moves slowly forward, to the edge of the creek, and squats down by the edge. He follows, watching her scoop up a palm of water and take a cautious sip - and then her eyes light up. "Oh wooooow..."

"No salt?"

"None. It's even cold." She laughs again, louder this time. "Give me a straw and I could drink this thing dry right now. This is _awesome_!"

"How in the world does this even work?" He settles down in the grass beside her, and she immediately reaches over to grab the bag off his shoulder, rummaging through it until she retrieves his notepad and pen, which he'd brought along on a whim. "Are you planning to draw it?" he asks.

"I have to. This kind of machine could make a bunch of places habitable, you know?" She tosses the bag into the grass behind them. "I knew how it was supposed to work on a small scale, but nobody's ever gotten it to function on the scale this guy talked about. So I _have_ to figure it out."

He looks from her to the creek, swallowing. "... is the water safe to drink?"

"Yup! Well, supposed to be, anyway." She grins at him. "Go ahead. As soon as I get this thing on paper, I'm gonna take a couple big slurps of my own."

"If I die of poisoning," he announces, "I will curse you with my last breath."

"I'll be dying right along with you," she responds, giggling, and Hubert thinks he should say something in response to that, but he's too busy leaning over the water and trying to drink from his palms to come up with anything. They've only had a little fresh water since arriving on their island, and he thinks that even if he dies in a few hours, he'll be happy because he won't be so impossibly _thirsty_ anymore.

* * *

They stay in the room with the creek for a long time. Pascal spends several minutes examining the purification contraption up close, sketching pieces in detail in the pad of paper in her hands and mumbling things aloud that make little to no sense to Hubert. He eventually goes to the trees and picks a few pieces of fruit - apples and oranges, mostly, because there are thankfully no banana plants here. He tries an apple and is surprised to find it ripe and juicy, and even Pascal eats one when she's finished drawing, saying she's tired of fish and bananas. They eat until they're full, then stuff as much fruit into their bag as they can, and neither of them feel guilty only because there's still so much left for the rabbits and birds.

The animals are apparently undisturbed by the presence of humans, not knowing to be scared of them; even when the Amarcian picks up a rabbit and scratches it between the ears, it doesn't appear bothered, and is even perhaps friendly with her, tucking its little head beneath her chin and dozing off to sleep. She laments not being able to have a pet - "Fourier's allergic to every kind of animal there is, except the ones she makes herself," she says - but puts the creature down without making a scene. When they go to leave, they decide to close the door behind them again, knowing that it would be better to keep the animals safe and continue the many generations of life that have undoubtedly existed in the room.

They go to the second door after that, making their way into the hallway that is connected to several other rooms. Like the lobby, the ceiling of the hall is cracked and spotted with holes, and sunlight gleams off the stones pushed together to form gleaming white tiles. Pascal announces almost immediately that this area is a considered a laboratory - and that she knows by the way it's constructed, and how the rooms are sealed off to prevent contamination - and goes barreling into the first room at full speed, eager to keep exploring. "If we've found all this so far," she tells Hubert, nodding at the pad of paper in her hands, "can you imagine what else might be in here?!"

It takes several hours to visit each section of the laboratory. In each room a new discovery is made, and most of them result in Pascal launching into a dizzying explanation of what she thinks they've found, or what the Amarcians may have been researching. Some of their findings don't seem new or unusual to her, but others throw her entirely for a loop; in one instance she actually throws herself on the floor, sprawls out on her stomach, and begins sketching an entire wall of pipes, pumps, and containment chambers. "I think," she announces, when Hubert asks her what she's found, "that this setup was supposed to function the exact same way as the machine attached to Forbrannir. But there's something_ really_ different about the way it's supposed to put off steam and hot water, and it's obviously not drawing energy from a valkines, but even so... maybe Fourier would want to see this."

"Interesting," Hubert comments in response, sits down beside her, and rummages around in their bag until he finds an orange. Though he'd expected to be impatient with her, somehow he's perfectly content resting on the dusty floor, peeling the skin off of a piece of fruit, and watching her draw. Perhaps, he thinks, he's learning to appreciate what she does - learning to appreciate the fact that these things make her immensely happy.

By the time they have visited every room of the lab, Pascal has filled up every single page of Hubert's pad of paper - front and back - with notes, drawings, and other scribbled thoughts, and run his pen practically dry of ink. He can't say he minds, however, because his companion is practically bursting with excitement. When they make their way up the hall to the lobby of the building again, she has his pen tucked behind her ear and the notepad under one arm, and is covered practically head to toe with dust and dirt. "This place," she announces, with an enormous grin, "is awesome."

"Have you learned anything about your ancestors?"

"Well, yes and no." She absently wipes dirt off her cheeks. "Nothing in here really told me why Amarcians built a lab on this island, or why they _left_, either. And although there's a ton of damage, there's really no indication of what might have caused it... or why there aren't any monsters. I at least thought we'd see those boars again..." She shrugs. "But I did learn a lot, and I mean a_ lot_, about what kinds of experiments they were running. Gosh, to be a fly on the wall while they were trying to figure out that water purification system..."

"I am certain you would have fit right in, in a setting like this." He chuckles as she grins up at him, and they pause as they enter the lobby, coming back to the open room full of damaged tile and rubble. The sun is starting to go down, and the light coming in through the holes in the ceiling is noticeably dimmer. "Well," he begins, looking around, "we ought to return to our camp before the sun sets. Have we seen everything there is to see?"

"I think so, but - " She suddenly stops mid-sentence, and before he can ask her what's wrong, she speaks again, almost breathlessly. "Oh, wow. We're not done just yet..."

"What?"

"There's a door over there." She points to the right side of the room, at a wall that is mostly decayed - and when he squints, he can just make out the outline of what appears to be a door tucked away in a shadowy corner. There's a dull golden nameplate above the door, but whatever writing it once bore is long gone, lost to time and exposure to the elements. "I am not really liking this whole door thing. The ancient Amarcians almost _never_ put doors on stuff. Normally it's just big open hallways. And it doesn't really look like it belongs there...?"

He frowns, reaching for the pad of paper and untying the bag on his shoulder. "Shall we investigate?" he asks, tucking the notepad inside the bag - and the pen, too, when she hands it to him, but not without wiping off the dirt on his pants first. "I suppose you won't want to leave until you know what's inside."

"I know it's getting late and stuff, but..." She laughs. "You're exactly right. I _have_ to know what's in there."

"Of course," he sighs, shouldering the bag again. "I am not even sure why I asked."

"Pleeeease can we go look, Hu? Please? Pleeeeeeeease?"

"You don't have to beg." He sighs again, but he's too amused to be seriously agitated. "I live to serve your every whim, Pascal. If you wish to investigate this final door, by all means, we will go - but we are leaving immediately afterwards."

"Yay!" she cheers, and bolts for the corner. Hubert follows, making his best attempt to hide the smile that is trying to force its way onto his face (and mostly failing). By the time he reaches her, she's yanked the door open, and they both gape at what lies behind it: complete darkness. "Umm," she begins, nervously, "so that's not good."

"It appears _this_ hallway is completely intact." He swallows, and when they exchange glances he can see that she appears fairly concerned. "Can you light our path?"

"I can try, but..." She tilts her head slightly, looking back at the hall. "I dunno why this area wouldn't be damaged. This is around where that hole was outside. But now that I'm thinking about it, the building is way bigger on the right side than we've actually seen so far, and..." She purses her lips. "This hallway might be reinforced, which means it's got some really important purpose. So I have to go inside."

"We will be careful." He nods. "Shall we?"

"Really careful," she murmurs, and then unstraps her staff from her back, holding it in front of her. She casts a simple arte, one that causes a small ball of fire to glow at the front of her weapon, and then nods up at him. "This should last for a minute or two before I have to do it again. Let's go."

They start to move slowly, creeping along through the path with the light in front of Pascal's staff to guide them. Though the construction of the hallway doesn't appear any different from the others, it is unlike the other halls in that it remains completely enclosed, and thus completely dark. The floor is cracked and gradually becomes more uneven as they walk along, and after a minute of silence the Amarcian makes a soft, worried humming noise. "So there are no doors in through here..."

"No, there are not."

"I'm a little afraid to ask what this leads to." In the dim light of the fire, Hubert can see her chewing on her bottom lip. "It's kinda ominous, isn't it? And the floor's getting kinda wonky and rough..."

"It is," he responds, taking a large step over a crack. "Have you ever seen anything like this in similar ruins?"

"No, not rea - " The flame in front of her staff suddenly extinguishes, and she yelps, apparently stumbling over her own two feet. He hears her go tumbling to the ground and immediately stops moving, but before he can ask if she's alright, she mumbles something and the fire starts burning again. "Ugh," she starts, looking up at him from the floor, "_that_ wasn't fun."

"I can see that." He extends a hand to her and she accepts it, giving him a grateful nod as he helps pull her up off of the floor. When she stands, he expects her to drop his hand... but she doesn't, instead pressing her palm to his and gently nudging apart his fingers with her own. Hubert feels himself begin to blush and is suddenly glad for the dim light, but he doesn't dare pull away, because who is he to say no if Pascal decides to hold his hand? "A - are you hurt?" he asks, making a feeble attempt to pretend he's not at all affected by what she's doing.

"Nah," she returns, and moves her staff out in front of them again, her eyes meeting his for only an instant. "I just tripped when the light went out. I'm okay."

"Good," he says, and decides to start walking again, assuming that her intention is to hold his hand while they continue down the hallway. Pascal starts moving with him, and he decides almost immediately that he's right, but _why_ - ? Still, he supposes he shouldn't question it, because he truly loves the feeling of her hand in his own, how it's small but not quite delicate, how her fingers are soft but strong from gripping her staff. He would give up almost anything to hold her hand like this on a regular basis, because it feels right to him - but_ everything_ feels right to him, of course, when it comes to Pascal.

By the time the fire goes out again, there's enough light in the hallway for the two of them to at least see where they are going. "Looks like there's a big room up there," she says, squinting, and slides her staff onto her back without looking. "Or maybe just a huge freakin' hole in the roof..."

"Or perhaps both."

"Yeah, maybe."

"I am quite surprised that you haven't charged at full speed up this hallway shouting about the amazing discovery you are on the cusp of making." He raises an eyebrow at her. "Are you frightened?"

"No, it's not like that, I'm just..." She shakes her head. "This isn't like any kind of Amarcian passageway I've been through. It's kinda like it was meant to be kept a secret, and lemme tell ya, the ancient Amarcians just did _not_ keep secrets."

"At all?"

"At _all_. Even today we're raised not to lie to anybody for any reason. I mean, it's not like we all follow it to a T, but it's just one of those things that gets drilled into our heads... y'know?"

"I see." The natural light becomes brighter as they keep moving, and eventually they're able to see an open door at the end of their path, one that leads into an evidently well-lit room of some kind. The expression on Pascal's face seems to indicate that she is nervous, but she continues to keep her pace by his side, her hand still wrapped around his. When they arrive at the door, they step through it together, and they both draw in loud breaths at the sight of the room before them. "What," Hubert begins, gaping, "in the world..."

This area of the building has evidently been heavily damaged. There is only a small strip of floor beyond the door that remains intact, and even it is potentially unstable, lined tiles that are cracked, broken, or even missing. After the floor there is a steep slope of dirt that leads down to a wide ring of murky, brownish water, and it's what the water surrounds that causes their shock. In the center stands a tall, glittering mound of something that looks like crystal. Its surface is smooth, but there are jagged ends and points at the top that seem to indicate a break of some kind; the mound is a rich indigo color, but it seems dull in the low light of the late afternoon. The ceiling above the center of the room has been ripped away in a nearly perfect circle, and Hubert sees what he thinks are fragments of the roof scattered around on the dirt slope and on the edge of the water. "Wooooooow," Pascal breathes, after a pause, her eyes wider than Hubert thinks he's ever seen them, "get a load of_ this_!"

"What _is_ this place?" He takes a tentative step closer, glancing down at his feet to ensure that he's not going to go tumbling down the slope into the water, and Pascal's grip on his hand tightens as she follows. "This... thing... looks familiar. If it was taller, and not... broken, I'd say it looks like - "

"A valkines cryas," she finishes for him, breathlessly, and practically squeals. "Ohmigosh, Hu, it _does_! It looks _just_ like a valkines!"

"But how is that even_ possible_?"

"Honestly, I don't know." They walk forward together to the edge of the slope, and when the Amarcian turns her head up to look at the glittering, gleaming mound in front of them, Hubert sees her eyes light up. "Okay," she begins, and he can tell from the very first word that she's going to launch into a spectacular kind of scientific theory, "so we know that the eleth on Ephinea is supplied by the three valkines, right? And the valkines are positioned pretty much exactly where they need to be to both keep the balance of eleth throughout the entire planet, and provide energy and cryas for all three nations. As far as we know, the valkines all came into existence, like, eons ago, and aside from the time that Richard got all possessed and crazy-like, they've been totally resistant and reliable, even when attacked. Buuuut..." She lifts a finger. "What if there was another valkines?"

"What would be the purpose of such a thing?" He raises an eyebrow at her. "Theoretically, wouldn't a fourth valkines cryas throw off the planet's balance of eleth?"

"Exactly! There's no need for a fourth valkines, especially one so close to Duplemar. But if something were to happen to one of the existing valkines that would damage it beyond repair, so that eleth could never ever flow back into it, and the balance were to be completely thrown off..."

"You're thinking about the possibility of a replacement valkines cryas?"

"Bingo." She nods. "Say Lambda went nutso again and somehow zapped all the energy out of Duplemar, or blew it up, or... something. There'd be no more water eleth, and everybody in Strahta would eventually have no choice but to move, and then there'd be a ton of overpopulation in Windor and Fendel, and everybody would be super miserable. But if there was a replacement..."

He frowns. "I understand your reasoning, certainly. But how on earth would such a thing even function? The existing valkines are hundreds, if not thousands of years old, and the circumstances in which they were created... aren't they largely unknown to us? The guardian dragons played some role, certainly, but..."

"Yeah. That's the big unknown." She hums to her self, tapping one foot as she looks up and down. "I'd have to study it to be certain, but... this thing could have been an artificial valkines cryas that my ancestors tried to create. If they were thinking about a potential disaster, or if there _was_ a disaster we don't know about in the past, they may have tried to re-create Duplemar - or one of the other valkines - as some sort of... backup plan."

"Yet something appears to have gone wrong over the course of their experiment."

"Mmm, yeah, seems like it."

"Could there still be eleth gathering here?" He gazes up at the opening in the ceiling, at the slowly darkening sky overhead. "Assuming this ever functioned, of course."

"I dunno. I doubt it." She tilts her head to one side. "Honestly, these islands are probably drawing all their life from Duplemar. They're not that far away, after all. But if there _was_ eleth gathering here that wasn't properly enclosed in a valkines... Well, we've only been like a mile from it since crash-landing, so all that exposure would have probably made the both of us show signs of an eleth high, like when we were back in the Zhonecage."

"I see."

"But I don't think either of us have been acting funny or doing things we wouldn't normally do, so - " She suddenly stops mid-sentence, and Hubert sucks in a breath, and they turn in unison to look down at where their hands are still clasped together. They abruptly yank their hands away from one another, and Pascal visibly blushes, reaching up to rub the back of her neck. "Umm... sorry... maybe I'm wrong..."

"S - sorry. I should have - stopped - " He folds his arms together across his chest, feeling heat creeping into his face. He had completely forgotten about holding her hand, somehow, as if it had become natural for him. "... perhaps there is an excess of eleth here, after all."

"Hehe..." She giggles. "That or you just wanted to hold my hand."

"Y - _you_ are the one who grabbed _my_ hand!"

She giggles again, winking at him, and he can do nothing but groan. "Aaaanyway," she starts again, and turns her attention back to the mound before them, "this could be a really amazing discovery, y'know? I've never, ever seen or heard about anything like this before. There's tons and tons of info in the archive back at the enclave, and I haven't had the chance to go through all of it, of course, but I would have thought that some kind of, like... valkines creation project... would be in one of those super old books."

"Unless it wasn't documented - "

"_Everything_ was documented, Hu." She shakes her head at him. "My ancestors were friggin' _meticulous_. There's books over a thousand years old in the archive! I mean, granted, they're in some weird old language that only the Overseer and Poisson can read, but they wrote _everythin_g down."

He frowns. "Then perhaps it was some sort of hidden project. If we've already established that these are Amarcian ruins, isn't it possible that there could have been a group of dissenters or scientists who sought to experiment in secret, after their ideas were rejected by the masses?"

She considers this for a moment, and then she blinks a few times. "Y'know, weirdly enough... you could be right. They weren't supposed to keep secrets, but there's definitely documented history of the ancient Amarcians getting into pointless squabbles over stuff like this. Like, did you know that the technology used in our communicators could have been around almost three hundred years earlier if it wasn't for one scientist getting told he was bonkers for coming up with the idea?"

"Hm. So there are things even your people think impossible."

"Yeah. But lucky for the current batch of Amarcians, _I_ don't think_ anything_ is impossible." She smiles up at him. "Seriously, you could be right. Oh! And you know what?" Her expression brightens. "It makes total sense! If they needed somewhere hidden to run their experiments, and they knew about these islands, they could have come here. They would have had to get here by boat, probably, but if there were a ton of Amarcians in Strahta back then, they might not have been missed. They could have even been living here! Or if this was an official lab, I mean - heck, they could have been hiding in plain sight through that weird door, working on an artificial valkines right under the nose of other Amarcians!"

"The history of our world is truly mystifying." He exhales. "I must ask... do you have any theories regarding the current... state... of this area? There is a considerable amount of damage."

"Hmm, good question. I'd bet it's something like what almost happened to Forbrannir. You know how we were all worried about the valkines being pushed for energy and almost going POW and exploding and stuff?" She gestures to the mound in front of them. "I honestly don't know a thing about how this would have been constructed, I mean... without sampling this, I really can't even confirm that it is - _was_ - an artificial valkines cryas. But, okay, assuming it was once up and running, or close to it... if my ancestors pushed it a little too far, it could have blown up right in their faces. Literally."

"And it would have damaged the laboratory and the rest of the island in this matter?"

"Not out of the question. I don't know what type of eleth would have been here, if there even was eleth, or a type... oh, hey, what if they were able to produce artificial eleth? Holy_ crap_!" Hubert sees her eyes begin to practically sparkle again. "Ohmigosh, what if that's what this was for?! If we could replicate their experiments, we might be able to power the world in a whole new way! People in Fendel would never ever have to worry about not having heat, and - and - " She squeals, spinning around, and he watches, amused, as she begins to do some horribly uncoordinated kind of dance. "This is aweeeeeeesome! I am _so_ glad we came in here!"

"I am glad for you." He chuckles softly, still watching her. "However, for the time being, I think we have seen all there is to see on this island. I still worry about the stability of this room, and of the rest of the area. It is getting late, so I think it would be best for us - " He abruptly reaches out and grabs her by one arm, just barely saving her from taking the plunge down the embankment into the muddy water. "I think," he starts again, and watches her grin sheepishly as she regains her footing, "that it would be best for us to make our way back to camp."

"Aw, but Hu..."

"We can return. After we're rescued." He pulls her easily to safety, releasing her arm only when he's certain that she's not going to go dancing away again. "I am certain that Mr. Paradine will want to study these islands further, and your people will certainly have some interest in your findings as well. If you would like to return, I am sure it can be arranged."

"You're probably right." She smiles up at him. "You're gonna come with me, though, right?"

"Of course," he agrees, and she laughs and smiles and spins away, and it's only later, when they're dragging the boat back to the shore, that Hubert realizes the significance of what he's said: it's the first time in two years that Pascal's asked him to do something with her that he hasn't initially rejected out of fear. Somehow he thinks he's learning to have fun, to appreciate her company, and...

And, he thinks, as he catches a glimpse of her smiling to herself, he's falling in love with her all over again. It had hurt him in the morning, his impossible, one-sided love, but right now it feels wonderful, and he wouldn't trade this kind of feeling for anything else in the world.

* * *

By the time they return back to their camp, the sun has set and they are both exhausted - and somewhat damp, thanks to the raft springing a leak only minutes before their arrival. They drag the boat to the sand and start a fire, but neither of them have the energy to fish or cook, so they settle for eating fruit and using the fire for warmth and light. Pascal checks their water source and comes up with a full cup to share between them, and although it's warm and doesn't compare to the creek in the lab, it's still good to have _something_ to drink.

When he finishes eating, Hubert piles their fruit peels on a plate, but Pascal's still munching away on a banana when she starts to speak. "Today was wild," she says.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," he chides her, and she swallows, grinning at him. "But... yes. I am quite surprised by just how much we found in those ruins. We will both have much to report upon our return."

"You really wanna get back home, don't you?"

"I would like to take a proper bath," he remarks, chuckling, "and be able to sleep indoors."

"Yeah, yeah, I getcha, but... hey, this isn't _too_ bad, is it?" She tosses her banana peel aside, curling her legs up in front of her until her knees are nearly at her chin. "We may be miles away from civilization, but we've got food, at least enough water to live on, and shelter. Our boat can be patched, meaning we can go explore the other islands if we want, and we've got our weapons so we can defend ourselves if we're attacked. The only thing we really have to worry about is like, one of us getting sick with some kind of jungle fever and keeling over and dying, or getting into a big huge argument that turns us against each other." She laughs. "And I don't see that happening, do you?"

"Not quite." He reaches for the discarded peel and places it on top of the plate, nudging it carefully to one side. "Although I may feel the need to scold you if you continue to litter."

She laughs again, shaking her head. "Sorry. Totally a bad habit of mine. You should see my room right now, I mean... heck, the last time Fourier was inside, she practically fainted. It's not even so much that it's messy, it's just that the Overseer let me borrow a couple things from the archive, and I was trying to brush up on my ancient languages, and then I got distracted by some research on water eleth, so... yeah, there are books, like, everywhere."

"There are worse things with which to make a mess." He lifts his arm, examining the bruise on his wrist from the first day's boar attack; the mark appears to be slowly turning yellow around the edges of the otherwise purple blotch, and doesn't seem to ache as much as before. "Take my brother, for example. His office in Lhant is an utter disaster. During my last visit, he attempted to claim that he left a window open, and that all of his neatly stacked paperwork was blown around the room, but I clearly recall the state of his desk as a child. Someone so disorganized and careless has no business being a lord."

"Aw, you're so harsh on Asbel! I know it's 'cause you love him, though."

"Hrmph. I fail to see how these observations are a reflection of how I feel about my brother."

"If you didn't care about him at all, you wouldn't say a word." She smiles, drumming her fingers along the tops of her bare knees. "You're way too easy to read. You talk about how messy Asbel is because you want him to get better as a lord, and you nitpick at his weak spots because you know he's way too clueless to pick up on them himself. And it's not just Asbel, either, though you're a little different with everyone. Take Sophie, for example." She nods confidently. "Sophie's your childhood friend and all that, and she's totally cute, so it's not like you could ever criticize her. But when you saw her doing something weird during our fights, you'd always make a big deal about covering her, and then you'd teach her later how not to keep her back so open, or what kind of attacks to use. You wanted to be her teacher."

Hubert feels a strange sort of combined pleasure and irritation at her remarks. He'd never thought himself so easy to figure out - nor had he suspected that Pascal, of all people, would be the one to understand his motives and feelings. Though perhaps, he thinks, she's just getting lucky - after all, she has done _some_ dabbling in psychology, surely -

"Am I wrong?" she asks, grinning up at him. "'cause I know I'm not."

"I can't say that you are, but you haven't told me anything that I don't already know." He frowns. "Though I suppose that this was not your goal in the first place - "

"Fine!" she interrupts him, and her grin spreads until it's wide and absolutely mischievous. "Want to know how I think you see me?"

"No," he retorts, immediately, and starts to get up, "absolutely_ not_. You will be one hundred percent wrong - "

"Hey, sit down!"

"No." He scoffs at her as he bends to pick up the plate of fruit peels. "I am tired, and I am going to sleep. If you have any particularly thrilling observations about my thought process, I _beg_ you to save them until the morning."

"Aw, geez, you're no fun."

"This is not the first time you have told me this," he replies, and trudges off in the direction of the ship. When he emerges he sees the Amarcian still curled up at the fire, but her chin's resting on her knees now, and although Hubert is tired and wants nothing more than to sleep, he thinks he ought to at least check on her. "As far as having fun is concerned," he begins when he reaches her again, placing his hands on his hips, "I will leave that up to you. You regularly have enough of it for both of us."

She sighs. "I guess, but... it's really hard for me to enjoy myself if you're being a total grump."

"I wish you would not call me such a thing."

"Oh yeah? I wouldn't say it if it wasn't_ true!_" She wrinkles her nose up at him. "Just when I think you're about to loosen up and say or do something totally awesome and unexpected, it's like you remember that your life is all about being dull and boring and _uck_."

"My life is _dull_?" He stares down at her. "I hardly think the time that we have spent on this island is dull. And our journeys around the planet and to Fodra were anything but. But - "

"But the rest of it? The part that involves you sitting at a desk in a stuffy office approving wardrobe changes and not fighting monsters?"

"... I will admit that you are correct with regards to my current position." He gives a sigh of his own before deciding he can hold off on sleeping just a little while longer, and when he sinks down into the sand beside her again, she gives him an approving nod. "But," he continues, "you already knew as much. What I take offense to, Pascal, is the implication that I _want_ my life to be this way."

"Well, it kinda seems like it, doesn't it? You're such a no-nonsense guy." She taps one finger against her knee. "And every time I drop by to try and shake things up a bit, you freak out like it's the end of the world. It's like breaking your routine might kill you."

He chuckles, unable to keep himself from his next comment. "If it's _you_ that is breaking my routine, it might _actually_ kill me."

"Aw, shaddup," she retorts, and swats at him, but a sunny smile has appeared on her face and Hubert is glad to see it. "I've kept you alive this long, haven't I? Honestly, if you would keep me around a little more, I might make things a whole heck of a lot better for you."

"... how so?"

"Well, okay, it's like this. We balance each other out. It's a ying and yang type thing." She nods at him. "You're a total party pooper and I'm a wild and crazy party all on my own. If we're separated, you never have any fun and I have so much fun I get into trouble. But when we're together, I drag you out of your shell and you make me calm down. Together, we just sort of... work, yeah?"

Hubert really doesn't want to admit it, but she's right. She's spot-on and her accuracy is almost deadly in the way it makes his heart start to ache. He knows full well that they work, that they balance each other out, but in his mind that balance just doesn't reach far enough; his side is still heavy and lopsided with love, and he sees none of that on her end - "I agree," he manages, before his thoughts render him completely speechless. "But I - "

"Oh, you know," she interjects suddenly, and her amber eyes light up, "there's this Amarcian belief about, like, personality types and birth months and stuff. You know how some people in Windor think that blood type determines your personality?"

"I have heard of such a thing, yes."

"Amarcians believe something totally different. We're raised to believe that there are three main personalities, and they're all linked to eleth. People supposedly have a little bit more of a certain type of eleth in them - though that part is totally bogus, if you ask me - and that is what determines their base personality. So I definitely have a fire personality, because I'm spontaneous and easygoing but sometimes I get nutso and go out of control and don't realize I'm upsetting my friends. And a lot of people - apparently most people - have wind personalities, which means they're usually calm and relaxed but can be too quick to act and sometimes don't think things through. But you - " She points a finger at him. " - have a water personality, to a freakin' T. You always plan before you act, and you value order and a routine over everything else. But sometimes you can get totally caught up in your own thoughts, and you get really overwhelmed by them."

He sighs. "These statements are so vague that they could apply to anyone."

"I know that. And there's a lot more that goes into it, too, if you dig into the birth months, but it's all sorta hokey-pokey nonsense." She laughs. "The point is, Amarcians who are looking for a mate are supposed to ask people their eleth types. Two of the same element usually works pretty well, and wind with fire or water can be a little volatile but doesn't cause long-lasting problems. But fire and water..." She smiles. "... is like an opposites attract type thing. Most times it doesn't work out, 'cause the personalities are waaay too different. But if you get two people together who _want_ to make it work, their personalities will perfectly balance each other out, and they're supposed to be able to live together in harmony for decades. The problem is just getting over the initial craziness."

"I see."

"Soooo, if you kept me around more - "

"Wait," he interrupts her, and it's as if his brain has only just now absorbed what she has been rambling on about, "_what,_ exactly, are you trying to say?"

"Hmm, I dunno. I was just making an observation." She relaxes her body, stretching her legs out in front of her, and lifts her arms to stretch them high above her head. "The other day, Fourier was talking about how I'm not getting any younger and I should be thinking about finding a husband or something. That's, like, the last thing on my mind right now. I'm not happy being holed up in my room alone all the time, but I don't think it's any better for me to waltz around the enclave looking for somebody who will make good looking babies with me. Ugh." She rolls her eyes. "But that's when I was thinking about personality types, and honestly, if I was going to marry anybody - if I was forced, I mean..." She pauses, and Hubert's breath catches in his throat when he realizes he knows what she's going to say, what she's been trying to tell him for the last few minutes, in a way that is so perfectly and completely Pascal. "... nah," she murmurs, glancing away, "I'm not gonna say it. You'll just get mad - "

"You would want to marry _me_?" he asks, and his voice cracks on the last word and he winces. He is twenty now, not some prepubescent boy, and yet he cannot break himself of doing such a ridiculous thing when he is nervous. "Pascal, I - for you to say such a thing - I am not mad, I - er - "

"It's stupid, I know." She laughs nervously. "And it would never work. Arranged marriages are _dumb_, especially because there usually aren't any feelings involved. But if I _had_ to pick somebody, it'd be you."

"Why?" he manages, even though he's having trouble breathing.

She avoids his gaze, staring down at the sand, and he's beginning to wonder if asking for more detail was a bad idea when she speaks, softly, her hands twining together in her lap. "Because, Hu," she begins, "you're the only person I know who really cares about me. You act like you hate me, sometimes, and I know I cause trouble for you, but when I'm with you... I never feel lonely, and I know you're going to do everything you possibly can to keep me safe and make me happy. I'd never be able to get that out of some kind of forced marriage."

"I don't hate you."

"I know, but - "

"I _don't_," he repeats, and raises his voice this time, "hate you. And if you were to be forced into a marriage against your will, I would certainly do my part to break it up, because - " He sees her eyes widen but forces himself through the rest of the sentence, trying his hardest to be careful with his words. " - because I know you would do the same for me. If my hand were to be forced against my will, you would certainly not be content with that, would you? I can see it now, you bursting into the chapel and shouting nonsense at my bride-to-be."

She giggles quietly. "You got it. I'd probably go the extra mile and dress up like some weird kinda superhero, and come in riding a horse, and then I would kidnap you."

He enjoys this mental image perhaps a bit more than he should. "I would pretend to resist, of course."

"Yeah, yeah, but I'd throw you over the saddle and scream at everybody to never look for you again, and then we'd ride off into the sunset and change our identities completely, and start over in some little town in the country or something." She giggles again, lifting her head to smile at him, and the absurdity of the story is enough to make him smile in return. "Actually, that's a perfect plan. Let's agree to it, okay? So if either one of us gets forced into some kind of silly arranged marriage, the other will show up on horseback in full costume - "

"_Pascal_," he interrupts, holding back laughter, because this whole thing really _is_ absurd, "I can't agree to such a thing."

"Then I guess we'll just have to marry each other so it never happens!"

"You really are one of a kind," he murmurs, shaking his head, and she gives him a smile so bright and breathtaking that his heart skips at least two beats. Their conversation stops there, just for a moment, and it's long enough for him to yawn and remember again that he is tired enough to sleep. But he hears her moving beside him, and when he glances to his side he sees her scooting closer in the sand, so close that they're nearly touching. "A - aren't you tired?" he asks.

She shrugs. "A little. But I like this too much to go to sleep."

"Like - what?"

"Talking to you. You're starting to loosen up." She leans over, her head coming to rest on his shoulder, and it's a struggle for him not to jump ten feet into the air, considering how surprised he still is by the sudden sensation of her skin against his own. "Who knows," she starts, and her voice is soft and unusually sweet, "stranger things have happened. One day we really might just end up together. Honestly... in another life we'd probably be married by now, and have a kid or two... y'know?"

He flushes and sputters and tries not to fall backwards into the sand, because the mere implication that he would really marry her, much less have children with her - well, it isn't unpleasant, but is this something, he wonders, that she actually wants? "P - Pascal," he starts, stuttering, "w - why would you say s - such a thing - ?"

"We'd be good together. I really think so." She yawns. "And right now, I kinda like being this close to you, pretending like we're some sort of couple, but..." She laughs softly. "You're tired of me saying stuff like this, aren't you?"

He opens his mouth, then closes it, because he isn't at all sure what to say. He turns his head, carefully, looking down at her, and the faraway look in her eyes strikes at his heart in a way he doesn't quite recognize. He doesn't know what she is thinking or feeling, or what _he_ is even thinking or feeling. Somehow he thinks that there really may be more to this than he knows - that maybe the little pecks on the cheek that she has given him, or the warm hugs and touches of her hands to his, have actually_ meant_ something, all along, and that he has been too stupid to see it. But he can't be sure, because it's Pascal, someone who is this way with everyone she considers a friend. He wants so desperately to believe that what she feels for him is different, is special, but he can't. He's just too scared - he simply _can't_.

"Pascal," he starts again, quietly, and begins to move his shoulder out from beneath her cheek, "I am not tired of you saying those things, but we cannot simply decide to - "

"Can you just..." He almost doesn't recognize her voice, when she interrupts him, and the sound of it strikes at his heart again, this time painfully. "... maybe, for a little while, just... let me sit here, like this?"

"What?" he breathes, stunned. "Why - ?"

"I dunno. I just... kinda... want this, right now." She sounds hurt, as if she's actually going to cry, and Hubert isn't going to dare move now. No matter what she does or doesn't feel, he can't hear her be sad, can't possibly see tears in those gorgeous eyes of hers. No, no,_ no_, absolutely _not_. "I'm thinking too hard about stuff," she murmurs, "and it's making me a little... hmm, wobbly, I guess. I don't really feel like myself right now, so... just... lend me your shoulder for a bit, okay?"

Hubert presses his lips tight together, thinking, and then he hears her sigh and there's no way he can say anything but yes. She is his biggest weakness and he can't deny her anything, no matter how uncomfortable it might be for him. "If that is what you want," he responds, and lifts one unsteady hand to gently stroke her hair, "I'll... I'll stay right here."

"For as long as I want?"

"For as long as you want," he agrees, and when she tucks her head into the curve where his neck meets his shoulder he can't help but shiver with a nervous kind of delight; despite the gravity of the situation and the very real possibility that she is upset, he craves this feeling, this contact, the way her arm is brushing his and her hair is tickling his cheek. "Forever, if that is your wish," he murmurs, maybe a little too distracted by the situation to think about his words. "I will be by your side as long as you need me."

"Would you really say yes to that, Hu?" Her fingers brush against his palm, and then she's turning his other hand over in hers, playing with his fingers, and when she speaks again Hubert starts holding his breath. "If I asked you to stay with me forever... would you really be willing to do something like that? You keep saying you're going to protect me, and stay with me, and I believe you, I do, but... how long is that going to last?"

He hesitates, reminding himself to breathe, and when he finally speaks his words are so soft he doesn't think she'll be able to hear. "I - I am a man of my word, Pascal. If you need me - "

"If I said I needed you to be with me forever, right here, if I wanted you to live with me on this island and - and - " Her grip on his hand tightens. "If I said I wanted that, Hu, _would_ you? Would you really give it all up for me?"

He knows the answer to that question, of course. He's known it for months, for_ years_. There isn't a thing on Ephinea that he wouldn't sacrifice for Pascal's sake. And as scared as he is - he is scared to _death_, right now - he's heard something familiar in her voice, something new, something_ different_. If she were to turn to him and ask him to be hers, to promise her forever, he would. Of _course_ he would. And if it meant living out the rest of his life on an island in the middle of the sea, he would even agree to that. As long as it meant that he could keep loving her, falling in love with her over and over again like he is right now, he would do it unquestioningly.

His lips tremble and his hands start to shake but he answers her because he has to, because he can't lie to her anymore, because he's past the point of being able to pretend. "Everything," he says, "and anything."

There's silence between them, and Pascal's fingers are still on Hubert's palm, and for what feels like forever all he can hear is the crackling of the fire before them and the soft roar of ocean waves nearby. He swallows, trying to breathe normally so he can still the beating of his racing heart, and he's just starting to wonder if he's done something stupid when the Amarcian lifts her head, looks up at him, and smiles. "Thanks," she murmurs, and leans up to press a kiss to his cheek. "You're the best."

He's not sure what to say in response to that, so he doesn't say anything at all. But it doesn't seem to matter, because she isn't expecting anything: she places her head on his shoulder again, and he softly strokes her hair with his fingers, and they sit together for a long time like this. It's frightening but it's so wonderful that he eventually forgets to be scared, and when Pascal dozes off beside him, it's only then that Hubert is brave enough to say the words aloud that he's been thinking all day, all week, perhaps for all his life.

_I love you, Pascal._


	5. million lights

_it's you I've been waiting for_  
_with our hands in the dark we have hope_  
_just don't be scared, hold your breath_  
_fill this room, fill it with heart_  
_'cause it's you I've been waiting for_  
- Futures, "Million Lights"

* * *

**islands in the sea**  
chapter five -_ million lights  
_

* * *

Pascal is on Hubert's bed again the next morning, but this time he somehow doesn't mind.

"You look weird when you sleep."

"How so?"

"Well, your mouth hangs open, and you're super still, and it's really hard to tell that you're even breathing 'cause you just don't _move_. When I woke up earlier, I was watching for a while wondering if you'd like, passed out or died or something."

"You were watching me sleep?"

She giggles, resting her chin in her hands, and Hubert sighs and shakes his head. Pascal lies on one side of his bed, sprawled out on her stomach, and he is on the other side, stretched out on his back, only two or three precious inches away from touching her. Neither of them have been awake very long, and it feels relatively late in the morning - too late for them to still be in bed, in need of baths and without breakfast - but neither of them apparently feel any urge to move, either. She'd been on his bed when he'd stirred awake, her head on his pillow again, and although his initial urge had been to roll away...

... somehow his heart doesn't hurt like it did before. Somehow he thinks he has something now that he didn't before: hope.

"I was only watching for a couple minutes," she says, giving him a little smile. "And I thought about waking you up, but I was worried you might get mad, so I didn't."

"How many times," he begins, and pauses to stretch, "must I tell you that you are not capable of upsetting me?"

"That kinda sounds like a challenge."

"Pascal," he says, seriously, and looks down his nose at her, over the top of where his glasses would be if he was wearing them, "that is _not_ a challenge."

"Isn't it?" Her smile has turned into a grin. "I betcha I can make you really, really mad. Like, so mad you'll scream at me."

"Impossible."

"Impossible, huh? How many times do_ I_ have to tell_ you_ that I don't consider anything impossible?" She pulls one hand out from beneath her chin and stretches it over him, reaching for something near his shoulder, and once he realizes what she's doing it's too late. "Sooo," she starts, and waves his glasses at him before sliding them onto her face, "how do I look?"

He scoffs. "Ridiculous."

"Aw, I thought you'd say I looked cute." She blinks at him through the lenses, raising both eyebrows. "Man, I can't see anything out of these. Your eyes must be wicked bad."

"Quite terrible, actually." He reaches for the frames but she rolls quickly away, to the very edge of the mattress, and he frowns slightly. "My vision is poor enough," he remarks, "that if I am not wearing glasses, I am not able to function."

"Hmm, so if I took these away from you - "

"_Don't_."

"If I took these away," she says again, grinning, "I bet you'd be reeeeeally mad at me..."

"Pascal, don't even _think_ about - " He sees her roll again, this time onto the edge of her mattress, and he sits up with the intention of following. "I am warning you," he begins, "if you make any attempt to steal those away from me, I will pursue you, and you will be dealt with."

"Ooooh, I am_ so_ scared."

"You have exactly five seconds to return those - "

"I'm freakin' shaking over here." He can just barely make out the devilish expression on her face as she sits, his glasses still resting on the edge of her nose, and he knows full well that her intention is to toy with him until he cracks. "What are you gonna do, sit on me?"

He narrows his eyes at her. "Three seconds."

"Maybe you're gonna tickle me and make me beg for mercy, or - wait, maybe you'll threaten to toss all the bananas on this island into the ocean..."

"One," he announces, and lunges. He tackles her to the mattress with relative ease, and she shrieks with laughter as he pins her down, one hand on her wrist and the other plucking the frames from her nose. "First of all," he begins, sliding on the glasses and blinking twice to clear his vision, "I could have dealt with you in a wide variety of ways. Secondly - " He grabs her other wrist and pins it down to her side, preventing her from taking the glasses off his face again. "You have failed at your task. I am still not upset."

"Not even a little?"

"No."

"What if I'd like, run really far away and buried your glasses in the sand or something?"

"Then I might have been..." He pauses, deciding not to give her the satisfaction of the truth. "... inconvenienced."

She pouts, squirming a little underneath him, but he tightens his grip on her wrists and gives her a stern, scolding look. "Hu," she whines, "you can let me go now. You got your glasses back, didn't you? And you proved me totally wrong, right?"

"And that means I should release you, does it?"

"Well, unless you _want_ to stay here on top of me..."

He opens his mouth, closes it, blushes, and turns his head away. He had been doing just fine, had been maintaining his courage and not even flinching at their skin-to-skin contact, but with that kind of remark... "Don't imply such - such inappropriate things," he mutters, and releases her wrists, lifting himself off of her and sitting back on the bed. "I was merely doing what I had to do to retrieve my personal possessions."

She sits with a soft grunt, grinning at him as she lifts one hand to flatten her messy hair. "I wasn't implying anything, Hu. I think _you're_ the one with the dirty mind here."

"_You_ are the one who forced me to take such actions," he retorts, "and _you_ are the one who rolled into_ my_ bed this morning - "

"And _you_," she interrupts, moving forward on her knees until she suddenly slips into his lap, stretching her arms up around his neck, making Hubert blush like he's never blushed before, "haven't told me to stop."

He sucks in a breath so fast he gets dizzy. "What are you - doing?!"

"I dunno. But I kinda like it." He feels her lift one hand to tousle the back of his hair, her fingers soft and warm and - and oh sweet _heaven_, that feels_ good_ - "I've never been able to do this kind of thing," she murmurs. "But if we're already talking about getting married..."

"That was not a serious discussion," he protests, but the words come out as sort of a dreamy mumble because he_ loves_ this, the way she's playing with his hair, the way one strap of her tank top has slipped down to reveal a slightly tanned shoulder and the barest hint of her cleavage, and Hubert has no idea what he's doing or what_ she's_ doing but he doesn't even_ care_. "Pascal," he breathes, and she leans up just a little bit, and they are so very close, close enough that he could throw all caution to the wind and bend and kiss her senseless - and he's actually thinking about it, because _damn_ her, she is doing this for a reason, and he doesn't feel as if it's just because she wants to tease him. "What are you doing?" he asks again, his voice soft.

"I am about to make you_ so_ mad," she replies, and she actually moves closer, so close that there is no doubt in his mind that she is going to kiss him, and his heart starts pounding away so loud that he expects to hear it - and then she plucks his frames from his nose again and hoots with delight, springing from his lap and bouncing to her feet on the sand at the foot of their beds. "Gotcha!" she hollers, with an absolutely stupendous grin, and slides his glasses back on her face. "You totally thought I was gonna give you a smooch, huh?"

"Pascal," he growls, and he is actually mad now - _damn_ her for _playing_ with him - "get back here!" He gets to his feet and starts toward her, but she laughs and starts to run down the beach, and he has no choice but to chase her until she runs out of breath and collapses laughing in the sand. When he finally retrieves his glasses she yanks him down nearly on top of her and ruffles his hair, telling him she's sorry and kissing his forehead not once but twice. And that's all it takes for him to forgive her, even though he wishes she'd put her lips somewhere _else_ for a change.

* * *

Their day proceeds relatively normally after that. Pascal hikes away to bathe while Hubert eats a breakfast of fruit, and then they switch, with the lieutenant attempting to go for a short swim in lieu of simply floating still in the water. They both have no choice but to begin re-using their clothing again, since they are both out of clean laundry, but the clothesline has allowed their garments to air out nicely.

Once they are both dressed and fed, Pascal sets out to repair their boat, patching the small hole that had appeared on their trip back to camp the evening before. Hubert goes fishing in the meantime, making an attempt to catch food for their lunch and dinner ahead of time. He is getting better with the spear, he thinks, and makes a mental note to do some training with a real one once he is back in Strahta. He catches three fish and also two crabs, and places them near where they've been lighting their campfire in preparation for their next few meals.

They both find themselves feeling somewhat bored after that, perhaps for the first time in the few days that they've been on the island. Hubert comments that he expects a search party to be on their way to them by now, and Pascal checks the communicator in the ship again, making sure that Fourier hasn't contacted them. They have almost nothing else with which to occupy themselves until their rescue, seeing as they've already explored the Amarcian ruins and hadn't brought along any reading material of any kind. The Amarcian suggests traveling to the other islands, but Hubert vetos the idea due to the boat's long term stability still being questionable.

Eventually the two of them end up doing everything they can think of to pass the time. Pascal suggests building a sandcastle, and Hubert scoffs at her and all but refuses, calling the idea childish and silly, until she challenges him to build one bigger than hers. He fails - miserably - but sits in awe as she sculpts a towering castle that looks like something out of a picture book. Then she knocks it over and goes running for the boat, saying she's going to go out just for a little bit to look at the ocean floor. He reluctantly agrees, and they float together on the raft just a few yards from the shore, peering down through the clear water at the rocks, fish, sand, and what even appear to be formations of coral and sponges.

They sit on the raft until Pascal announces she's hungry, and when they go ashore, they both work together to prepare a lunch of crab meat. Neither of them have any idea how to actually cook crabs, however, so they spend some time guessing before the Amarcian remembers something about boiling them in water. They finally manage to cook their meal, and although they both lament not having any butter or seasoning, they both agree that it's a nice change from fish. "I actually really like seafood," Pascal says at one point, smiling, "and you really aren't bad at making it, y'know?"

"Cheria would be ashamed of my poor skills," he returns, chuckling, but he's secretly pleased by her compliment.

Their afternoon passes by slowly. The two of them eventually walk through the wooded area and around the beach, with Pascal filling in as many blank spaces as she can find on Hubert's full notepad with additional scribblings about what they've seen. "You will be asked to present your findings to the president when we return," he tells her. "I assume you are willing to do such a thing?"

"Oh, sure," she agrees, with a casual wave of one hand, "as long as you're gonna be with me."

"Of course. But you are the important part of this equation. I am all but certain that it isn't possible for _me_ to explain all that you found in the Amarcian ruins."

"Well, you could try," she jokes, and laughs. "Don't worry. I'll be right there with you. We'll give the prez way more information than he knows what to do with!"

Hubert's pen finally runs dry, and the two of them return to the ship to safely store away the full pad of paper, checking on the communicator in the process. They decide to straighten up the ship, cleaning up the messes that had been made by the boars on their first evening on the island, and although they both acknowledge that it's relatively pointless - the aircraft isn't going anywhere, seeing as it's completely broken - it still gives them something to do. Pascal sits by the front of the ship for a while and checks on the controls, ensuring the communicator still has power, commenting during the process that their solar panel has been working fairly well so far. She talks out loud about making some attempt to repair one or both engines, but eventually decides that it would be futile due to missing parts and a lack of manpower.

As the day rolls on, it brings with it a gradual darkening of the sky, several gray clouds, and an increase of humidity in the air. They both observe, when they leave the ship and step back onto the beach, that it seems like a storm is coming. They start the campfire again and have their dinner, eating fish and finishing their fruit from the other island, and when they're done eating Pascal flops down on her back in the sand and sighs loudly. "You know," she begins, staring up at the gray sky above them, "today has been totally boring, but..."

"But?"

"But I kinda like having nothing to do." She laughs, folding her arms behind her head. "What do you think, Hu?"

"It is relaxing, to some extent." Hubert folds his hands together, watching the small fire burning in front of him. "But I must confess that I am eager to return home."

"Oh... you are?"

"Yes." He nods. "As much as I enjoy having the opportunity to leave behind my duties, it cannot last forever. And I do enjoy spending time with you, but I..." He pauses, wondering exactly how he should finish this sentence, how much he should say about his feelings. "... I cannot stay here forever," he says, finally, for lack of a better explanation. "The military needs me, and Amarcia surely needs you."

"The enclave doesn't need squat from me. And forget the military." He hears her voice soften. "Wouldn't it be nice to just stay here with me?"

"It would not be practical." He frowns slightly, looking to where she lies on the sand. "Eventually we will become dehydrated, and the lack of substantial food will cause us both to be malnourished. We have no proper shelter, and few means with which to repair the ship or your boat. Moving to the larger island might be slightly more viable, but - "

"So you really wouldn't stay here with me?"

He sighs. "Pascal, all I am trying to say is that we could not realistically _survive_ - "

"Okay, so say we could. Say there was a bunch of food and fresh water and we built a house and nobody would ever miss us." She rolls onto her side, her amber eyes meeting his. "_I_ would wanna stay here. The weather's nice, and we could find more to do. I could just sit around inventing stuff all day, and make these islands into a totally cool new habitat. And you could... I dunno, you could do something, right?"

He folds his arms together. "Would you invent something for me to do all day? I am a crucial part of the Strahtan military. I could not simply abandon my post in order to live on an island - "

"Even if I asked you to?"

He presses his lips tight together, glancing away. He remembers agreeing to this the evening before, but his heart had been so full of love, then; he'd been desperate for her, desperate enough to agree to such a thing, but now he is being realistic. He knows what she is thinking, what she wants right now, but he really couldn't do it, could he? As much as he dislikes the monotony of his position, he cannot simply walk away from it. "I cannot answer that," he murmurs. "We are discussing a very unlikely situation. Were we to find ourselves actually able to live on this island for an extended period of time, I might be willing to do such a thing. However - "

"Seriously?"

"_Seriously_," he confirms, and the word comes sharper than he means it to. "I - what I mean to say is - "

"I get it." She sits, slowly, with her back to him, and he starts to wonder if he's made a mistake. "So you wouldn't want to live with me, huh?"

"That is not at all what I said."

"Yes it is!"

"It is _not_!" He leans forward, raising his voice. "You have been asking about living on this island, not living with you in general. And I highly doubt that _you_ would ever truly _want_ such a thing. You have shown no interest in spending any part of your life with me except for the occasions in which you run into my office asking me to travel with you because no one else will, or as a result of your sister's apparent insistence that you marry. I have no reason whatsoever to believe that you would want to spend more time with me than you already have." He draws in a breath, realizing that his hands are shaking against his chest, and turns his head sharply away. "I will not be pressured into committing to something that is impossible. We cannot live here, and I am tired of being here as it is, so I would not like to extend our stay any further. That is final."

"So that's how you feel, huh..."

"I - "

"Hey," she interrupts, and he sees her lift a hand to her forehead, smoothing back her bangs as she speaks again. "I'm still kinda hungry, and I'm all out of bananas, so... could you go get me some?"

He stares at her, his mouth dropping open. "Right now?"

She shrugs her shoulders. "Yeah. Right now."

He wants to tell her to get them herself, but he doesn't think that doing so would be a wise decision at this point. "Fine," he mutters, and stands, spinning on his heel and storming off in the direction of the wooded area. He is upset, and hates the way she has all but ruined their perfectly happy day by being stubborn and unrealistic, and _damn_ her for seeing this situation as black and white! He would certainly give up anything to be with her, but the fact of the matter is that he cannot simply sacrifice his well-being for someone who may not even love him. It is impossible for them to live on the island, together or otherwise, and why can she not just see that?!

Pascal is sitting on the shore when he finally returns, his arms full of bananas, slightly calmer and thinking rationally. He's about to storm over and dump the fruit on the sand with a loud sigh about how he's growing tired of doing ridiculous things for her - until, from a distance, he sees her draw her knees to her chest and wrap her arms around them. Something isn't right about the way she's sitting, the way her chin is pointed down at the sand instead of held triumphantly in the air like usual, and he can't help but to instantly worry that he has gone too far, somehow. He goes to the ship and carefully deposits the bananas on the floor just inside the door, then makes his way across the beach, coming up behind her. "You ought to be careful," he says, as he arrives. "If the last few days have been any indication, the tide will be changing soon. You'll be soaked, sitting so close to the water like this."

"I don't really mind." She doesn't lift her head, even when he settles down beside her in the slightly damp sand. "I kinda feel like going for a swim."

"Without a bathing suit?" He allows his tone to become slightly mocking, expecting a laugh or even an insult, but Pascal says nothing. Hubert stills, leaning forward to take a better look at her, and the way her eyes are cast down at the sand and her bare feet is honestly alarming. He has only seen her act like this once before, when they'd all met Fourier in her lab, and - _Oh_. Suddenly he thinks he understands, and he wishes he didn't. "Pascal," he begins, carefully, "if I upset you - "

"Can I ask you something?" She looks to him, finally, but he doesn't feel relieved; her voice is unusually dull, and the lack of a smile on his face makes his chest tighten and ache in a way that is altogether uncomfortable. "This whole time that we've been here, I've felt really happy. It's been something like an adventure, you know? And I honestly thought that you felt the same way, Hu. But..." She shifts her eyes away from his, turning her attention to the ocean, and her voice grows quiet and perhaps a little bitter. "You don't feel that way at all, do you? You're not even happy to be with me."

"It's - " He's really done it this time, he thinks, and he can't get the words out fast enough. "It's not that. I'm - I'm glad to be with you, but the situation - "

"Why can't you just make the best of it?" She interrupts him easily, as if it's natural for her to be able to silence him mid-sentence, and Hubert thinks that it probably is. "Why can't you just smile and have fun the same way I can? Is it really that miserable? Can I not even joke about living here without you hating it? Am I - " With her next sentence, his chest aches so strongly that he thinks his heart might burst. "Am I really that much of a _bother_ to you?"

"N - _no!_ That isn't it. I -" She looks to him again, as if she's waiting for an explanation, but what is he supposed to say? Is he supposed to let his feelings come flooding out of his mouth, supposed to risk wrecking their so-called friendship in the name of a confession of love? "I," he tries again, and his mind races for an explanation, something, anything to say that isn't the truth, " - you don't bother me, Pascal, but being here - being close to you, I - " This isn't going well at all. " - what I mean to say is that I - "

"Forget it." She stands, suddenly, and he watches her with his mouth hanging open like the fool that he is. "I'm going home."

" - what?"

"I'm going to swim back to Strahta, and then I'm going home. I'll hitch a ride with a Turtlez or something. And then you'll never see or hear from me again, and you can finally be happy. Okay?" She takes a step forward, and Hubert is immediately scrambling to his feet, cursing himself for not being able to compose a single damn sentence without giving her the wrong impression (as if there is a right impression to give her). "No more Pascal hanging around your office with stupid ideas, no more Pascal making you fetch bananas, and no more Pascal trying to - " Her words catch in her throat. " - trying to make you smile, or laugh, or - or decide that you really want her company after all - "

"Stop." He reaches for her but she steps away, easily, and Hubert is starting to think that now is not the time to mince his words in the name of hiding his feelings. "_Stop_," he says again, and this time he grabs her shoulder and holds on tight. "Don't _say_ things like that. If you knew - if you had _any_ idea how much I cared for you - "

"Well I_ don't_!" She turns on him, smacking his hand away, and he can do nothing but stare, dumbfounded, at the suddenly furious Amarcian before him. "You always act like you hate being around me, like you want to never see me again, and I can't figure out what you want from me, okay?! I'm not some kind of super-genius that automatically knows exactly what you're thinking! You promised me that you would do anything for me, and then you took it back, and - and I just don't get it! I don't _understand_ you!" She clenches her hands into fists at her sides, standing up on her toes, and her voice practically becomes a shout. "So what am I supposed to think, huh? Do you hate me?! Because you're always saying that you care about me, but then you go and act like you can't stand the sight of me, and all I've done is try to figure the whole thing out, and - and I'm tired of freaking_ thinking_ about you all the time!"

"Pasc - "

"Shut UP!" She punches him squarely in the chest, hard enough to knock the wind out of him, and he stumbles back in the sand but doesn't fall, only gapes at her with his mouth wide open. "I'm going home," she declares, and moves quickly across the shore, down to where the tide is coming in, and wades into the water. "I'm going to swim all the way back, and when I get there I'm going to smash my freaking communicator so I can never, _ever_ talk to you _again_!"

Hubert takes a moment to call himself an idiot, out loud, because he_ is_ an idiot. And he could spend all evening standing here on the beach calling himself a foolish, moronic, spectacular idiot, and it still wouldn't make up for how badly he's treated the person that he loves - the person who is currently wading into the ocean in a terribly misguided attempt to go home and leave him behind.

He is an idiot, plain and simple, but he is an idiot because he loves her. And before he lets her go and gives up on all hope of ever holding her in his arms or calling her his wife or kissing her and their children good night, he can do just one more brainless, moronic thing.

"Stop!" he calls, and before he can talk himself out of it he is hurrying to catch her, ignoring the way the ocean immediately catches hold of his clothing and sends a chill creeping up the legs of his pants, steadying himself as a wave threatens to toss him off his feet. "Pascal, stop. Stop right this instant."

She does stop, turning, but apparently not with any intention of running into his arms. "Go away!"

"I will do no such thing." The water's up to his waist when he reaches her, nearly to her shoulders, and he seizes her easily, one arm tight around her middle. "And you will get out of this water before you drown or make yourself ill."

"Let - let_ go_ of me!" She kicks her legs and flails her arms, sending water splashing into his face and knocking his glasses nearly off his nose. "I told you to _go away!_"

"No," he responds, and practically drags her out of the water to the shore, doing his best even though she fights him the whole way. When they are back to solid ground he drops her rather easily on the sand of the shore, where she lands hard on her backside with her legs splayed out in front of her. She glares at him and moves as if she's going to scramble to her feet again, but he drops to his knees in front of her and she is immediately still, the angry expression disappearing from her face in an instant. "I know," he begins, and speaks without thinking, "that I have been cruel to you, and that I have said hurtful things. That was not my intention. I cannot blame you for misunderstanding my feelings - " He stops at that and shakes his head, hard. "No. There was no misunderstanding on your part. I have been terrible to you. And it is unforgivable."

She looks up at him with wide amber eyes, leaning back, her hands digging into the wet sand behind her. "H - Hu - "

"It is all I can do to remain composed when I am by your side. When you are close to me, I - " He takes a breath, pushing his glasses up on his nose, and he is soaking wet and her clothes are clinging to her like a second skin, and this is ridiculous, isn't at all how he wanted to confess to her, but he can't stop now. He would rather risk losing her forever over the truth than he would lose her over a lie, over a long series of stupid, misguided decisions that have led her to believe that he hates her - that Hubert Oswell, who has spent almost three full years loving Pascal of Amarcia with his entire being, _hates_ her. " - I cannot do anything but act like a fool," he continues, and prays that his voice stays steady like this until he gets it all out. "I have misled you, and lied to you, and I deserve every bit of your anger. But before you decide to leave, I _beg_ you to listen to me."

Her mouth has been open for several seconds now, but she closes it, visibly swallowing, before giving him a nod. "O - okay. If there's something you have to say to me, then... say it. But - "

"Do you honestly believe that I hate you?" When he poses this question to her, she falls silent, her head dropping. Hubert waits, but when she doesn't speak he continues, summoning up every last bit of his courage. "Do you know that I rejected a marriage proposal because of you? That I willingly refused a politically beneficial arrangement that might have given me the chance to advance in the military, or even one day become the president of all of Strahta? I had such an opportunity in my hands, and I refused it. I did such a thing because of_ you_."

"What..." Her voice is low. "What does any of that have to do with me?"

"I have no interest in marrying for political gain. I rejected the offer because - " He finally falters, but forces through the stammer that comes, because he cannot and will not waste this chance. "... because - because I did not wish to lose the opportunity to be by your side. I wanted to be with you, and no one else. And nothing in the world was -_ is_ - more important to me than that, than - than _you._"

There's an expression on Pascal's face that Hubert can't quite pinpoint, some mixture of shock and awe and embarrassment, and he sees a light dusting of a blush on her cheeks, her pink lips slightly parted. He's not sure what to say or what to do now, but he knows that he hasn't made himself clear enough, not yet - that she has misunderstood these words already and will do so again unless he's clearer, unless he tells her his honest feelings. "I have been fearful of confessing this - any of this," he continues. "And it has caused me to distance myself, and to say things I do not mean. I know that you cannot forgive me for acting this way. But you must understand that my feelings for you are not hatred, and they never have been. I care for you - I - more than I know how to express, Pascal, I - "

"You big dummy."

He draws back, surprised. "Wh - "

"Do you know how weird that is, huh? Acting like you hate somebody when you care about them?" She scrunches up her nose at him, leaning forward to grab his wrists, and he nearly topples over facefirst into the sand but manages, somehow, to keep his balance and sit up on his knees. "Do you know how _I_ act when _I_ care about somebody? I _tell_ them I care about them, and I _don't_ act like a total jerk in their presence!" Though she's clearly irritated, her voice isn't quite as angry, and the blush remains on her face, making him wonder exactly what it is she's feeling. "Somehow, Hu, I... even when you make me mad, I still can't stop wanting to be around you. If I really had gone home and smashed my communicator, I would have eventually built a new one..."

He studies her for a moment. "Were you really planning to swim all the way to Strahta?"

"... yeah. But I probably woulda turned around and come back, too." She sighs, and when she tugs on his wrists he comes willingly forward, removing some of the distance between them on the sand. Their eyes meet and there's silence for a long few seconds, with nothing around them but the sound of the waves rolling slowly in, and it's Pascal who speaks again, her words coming hesitantly. "I... I'm sorry. I kinda lost control of myself there for a sec. And I'm _really_ sorry for punching you; that was totally - it was really mean, so - "

"No. I deserved it." He allows himself a smile, however slight, and he notices that his hands are shaking in her grasp but tries to ignore the sensation. "You hit me nearly as hard as that boar from the other day. I suspect I will have a large bruise in the morning."

"Aw, now I feel bad..."

"As I said, I fully deserved it." He hesitates, wondering if he should re-approach the subject of his feelings, now that she appears to be calming down. He thinks that there may not be a need, but he has come this far already, and unless he speaks the truth now, he thinks that they will only repeat this again; he wants her to know how he feels almost desperately, because he is tired of acting this way -

"Um," she says, and he lifts his head, allowing their eyes to meet again. "Did you really turn down a marriage proposal...?"

"Y - yes." He swallows. "Because of you."

They hold their gaze for a moment, and then he sees a smile sneaking onto Pascal's mouth, one that turns the corners of her lips up in a way that makes his heart nearly stop, and suddenly it's a grin and she's leaning forward, uncomfortably close to him, speaking in a teasing way. "Somebody actually liked you enough to want to _marry_ you?"

"H - _hey_!"

She dissolves into giggles upon hearing his reaction, and he stares at her, not knowing if he should be insulted or happy or amused - but her giggling is contagious, and as ridiculous as the entire situation is, he still feels a long-forgotten urge to laugh. He lets down his guard, just this once, and joins her; it feels good to laugh, to relinquish control, and he finds himself smiling, too, as if it's natural. As soon as she hears the sound, her eyes go wide, and she stares up at him, her mouth dropping open. "Whoa," she breathes, "did you just... laugh?"

"I did." He pulls one hand away from hers and pushes his glasses up on his nose, trying to fight back the smile that is still on his mouth. "I am not incapable of laughter, as hard as you might find that to believe."

"I know you can laugh, Hu, but... I don't think I've ever actually heard you do it around me, not like _that_." She tilts her head to one side, staring up at him, and at her next remark he blushes like he's never blushed before. "It's actually kinda... sexy."

"W - wh - what kind of nonsense - " He turns his head away, feeling warmth rushing into his face, and clears his throat. "It - it is no such thin!g!"

"You should do it more often." She giggles again, softly this time, and the tide inches forward, water creeping into the place where they sit on the shore. "I like it a lot," she says, and suddenly one of her hands wraps around his, and Hubert is now sure that he would give up anything to hold her hand. God help him, but he _would_ stay here forever if it meant doing this, he thinks, and he knows how stupid this thought is - but when it comes to Pascal, all he_ does_ is think stupid thoughts. "I really like hearing you laugh," she murmurs.

He isn't sure what to say in response to that. "Hm," he remarks, rather uselessly, "I don't particularly like doing it - "

"And," she interrupts him, and her fingers twine tight through his, "I - kinda - really - like _you_ a lot, too. You know?"

He doesn't know. Rather,_ didn't_ know. So when he hears these words, his jaw drops and he looks at her, staring, gaping like an idiot. There's a still pink on Pascal's cheeks, and her amber eyes are focused on the sand instead of him, and Hubert has never before wanted to kiss her so badly in his life. He has no idea how to kiss, where to place his hands or how to hold her in his arms, but just this once he thinks he can throw caution to the wind, because he's waited long enough for this and can't keep himself from it any longer.

When his arm circles the Amarcian's back, she gives a little gasp, but then she's quiet, and he can feel her trembling in his grasp. Her free hand lifts slowly to his forearm, fingertips pressing carefully to the bare skin there, and when he pulls her closer it's clear that she gets the idea. She's a quick learner, after all. He closes his eyes and bends to her, and the first touch of his lips to hers is unsatisfying, is far too light and cautious and simply not enough. It's with their second kiss, the one that she starts, that he understands exactly why he's been wanting this so badly. Pascal is close to him, so close that he can feel her breathe, and her lips are warm and wet against his own. She makes a soft noise that sends a shiver down his spine, and he feels relief and happiness and sheer terror -

- and when she pulls away and he opens his eyes he thinks he might sob, because the sudden loss of her mouth against his own is like a tragedy. But she's smiling, and her blush has grown darker, and her fingers have wrapped so tight around his own that he thinks his hand might go numb. "Hey," she starts, whispering, "did you... like that as much as I did...?"

"You - you silly, crazy,_ impossible_ girl - " He is all stutter and no sense right now, because it's too hard to talk when his longtime love interest is kneeling in front of him, a confession fresh out of her mouth and a kiss drying on her lips. "I - Pascal, I love you. You made me feel this way. You - you_ forced_ me to feel this way - against my better judgement, against my will, against _everything,_ and - " She's gaping at him and he doesn't care, because she _will_ hear this, will hear all of it; after all this waiting he can't keep it in anymore, not after he's heard her speak her feelings, the ones he's wanted to know from her for months upon months. " - and I will stay here with you for the rest of my life if I have to, I _promise _you that, just as long as you say those words to me again."

"Hu - "

"Say it again," he pleads, urgently, "_please_."

"I," she begins, and then stops gaping and starts smiling, and her eyes practically sparkle, and there's the Pascal he knows and loves, the one he would give up everything to be with, "like - no, that's not right. I_ love_ you. A lot. A whole_ heck_ of a lot."

"Thank you," he says, and he knows it's stupid but to hell with making sense right now - to hell with everything, because he has what he wants and if he never goes back to Strahta and has to stay on this island in the middle of the sea forever, he _will_, just as long as she is here with him. And with that decision finally made he kisses her again, a little more sure of himself this time, and when he feels her smile in the middle of the kiss he can't help but do the same, and after a moment they are both laughing like fools in the middle of the shoreline, on their knees in the wet sand with the tide creeping in around them. It's stupid and silly and not at all how he pictured it, but it's love, finally, and it's perfect.

* * *

After a few more kisses - well, to be accurate, a few dozen more - Hubert thinks he has an excellent understanding of why kissing is so important.

They sit together in front of their campfire, huddled together under a blanket as they try to dry their wet clothes, and Pascal is almost completely in his lap and he doesn't mind one bit. There is no one here to see them, no one to look at them together and make any kind of disparaging remark, and the privacy has allowed him to relinquish control and give into his emotions. He's already all but memorized the way her face and hands and shoulders feel beneath his palms, grown to adore the soft, breathless sounds she makes when they kiss, and somehow he thinks he's fallen even more in love with her than before. At the moment she has both of her arms wound around his neck as he places gentle, careful kisses along the top of her collarbone, and the noises she's making are priceless. He thinks to himself for probably the tenth time that he should probably stop before he gets carried away or does something stupid, but...

"Hu," she murmurs, and sighs happily, almost dreamily, "don't stop, okay?"

... but she has done nothing but agree to his every whim, and why in the world would he stop when it's obvious that she wants this just as badly as he does?

"You know," she murmurs, running her fingers through his hair and giving soft, sudden gasps every time he places his mouth somewhere sensitive, "I really shouldn't have - ah - waited so long to say - _ah!_ - something like that to you..."

He wonders if he should make her lips busy again so that she stops talking for a while. "Something like what?" he asks.

"I dunno, it's just... mm, well... I've felt this way for a really long time, you know? And I mean a really long time, like months. At least a whole year. But I - _ahh_..." She closes her eyes, drawing in a shaky breath, and Hubert worries her skin with his lips, wanting to mark the spot for later, just in case he has another opportunity to hear that sound a second time. "... I didn't want to mess things up, or make you mad at me, and I was pretty sure you hated me, and - and oh jeez, that feels _soooo_ good..." Her fingers rake through his hair, and she somehow manages to find a way to get closer to him, so close that he can smell the salt water on her skin and see a faint flush of pink on her cheeks. "You have to promise me that you're gonna keep doing this, okay? You're driving me crazy..."

"You have been driving _me_ crazy for the better part of three years," he comments, and the words come easily, because with his feelings spilled out of his mouth and into her waiting ears, he no longer has any reason to hold back. "I have wanted nothing but to be close to you, and to tell you my feelings. But the thought that you might... reject me, or find them unwanted..."

"We're a pair of dummies, aren't we?"

"I suppose that we are," he agrees, and laughs softly into her skin. After a moment he presses his lips to her neck, then lifts them, bringing them carefully to her own. The kiss is sweet and full of love and longing, and it's a struggle for him to break away, but he must, even if just so he can finish his thought. "When we return to Strahta... you must stay with me. I need you to remain by my side. I - "

"We have all the time in the world to figure that out," she interrupts him, quietly, and the smile she wears is unexpectedly pretty. "Who knows? Maybe we'll never even get there. I'd be totally okay with sticking it out here."

He exhales, wrapping his arms tight around her waist. "Pascal..."

"It doesn't matter to me anymore. I don't care where we go, just as long as I'm with you." She leans forward, tucking her head beneath his chin and snuggling into his chest, and the feeling of her body against his is a welcome one. "How did I ever think that you hated me?" he hears her wonder out loud, her voice growing quiet. "I was totally convinced you were tired of being around me..."

"I did a fine job of giving you that impression, didn't I?"

"I would have said something sooner, but I guess I was scared..."

"I know," he breathes, and pulls her tighter against him until he's certain that there's no way they can be any closer, "believe me, I_ know_. Each moment that I was with you was absolute torture. I had wanted to confess my feelings, but the thought that I might lose you..." He exhales, and the sound is shaky because he's still nervous, even with a full twenty minutes of kissing behind them; he is all but overwhelmed by the realization that Pascal loves him, has loved him for months, and that they have both hidden their feelings out of fear. "I am sorry," he says, "for putting you through this. Had I known that you felt the same..."

"It's not your fault. I was pretty stubborn, too." She laughs into the front of his shirt. "After a while I realized what you'd been trying to tell me back when we were on Fodra, but... by the time I figured it out - well, I mean, by the time Captain got tired of watching me try to figure it out and started calling me a dummy..." She laughs again. "... I was sure you'd gotten over it, you know? Do you remember the time I dropped by and asked you to go to the valkines with me, and you got in trouble with the prez?"

"Of course. What of it?"

"I was actually planning to tell you everything that time. I had it all planned out, actually." He feels one of her hands start moving against the back of his neck, her fingertips lightly tracing patterns on his skin, and it sends a tremor through him that he knows she can feel. "After I was done with my research, I was gonna grab your hand and tell you I wanted to be around you more, and that I thought it would be fun for us to start, like, going on dates or whatever. I thought it'd make you happy and stuff. But then I got all distracted and nervous and woozy and forgot what I wanted to say, and then that monster attacked and I messed up my ankle, and you were reeeeeally pissed, so..."

"I was upset, but..." He closes his eyes, still shivering beneath her touch, and the thought strikes him that he'd like to feel her hands on the rest of his skin, and - oh,_ no_, he chides himself, he should not be having _those_ kinds of thoughts, not right _now._ "Had I known your intention was to confess your feelings to me, I might not have acted as I did."

"You seemed really mad. So I just kinda gave up on the whole thing. I was sorta thinking about telling you while we were here, but that was before the ship crashed, so..." Her fingers stop moving, and he feels her lift her head slightly, her mouth close enough to his throat that he can feel her breathe. "Why didn't you say anything, Hu?" she asks quietly. "I really thought you'd given up on me..."

"I was too scared of losing you. It was better, in my mind, to have time spent by your side than to risk having nothing at all."

"Yeah. I guess I understand that." She leans back, looking up at him as he opens his eyes, and gives him a smile that is pretty enough to be heart-stopping. "But you're never ever going to be able to get rid of me now. I hope you're prepared to be stuck with me forever and ever, 'cause now that I have you, I am _not_ letting you go."

He can't help but smile at that, and he bends to her with the intention of starting another kiss. "I would like nothing better," he says, and when her lips press to his and she slips her fingers up the back of his neck into his hair again, he's certain that he could be struck dead by lightning right now and be more than happy with the way his life has turned out.

* * *

The rain starts just as they're tearing themselves apart from each other and trying to settle down for bed, and it comes down fast, giving them no time to prepare for the storm. They scramble to drag the mattresses and blankets inside, followed by the clothing hanging on the lines attached to the back of the broken ship, but the downpour is unforgiving and the darkness inside the mostly powerless aircraft makes moving around difficult. By the time everything has been brought inside and shoved out of the way, they've bumped into each other countless times and are soaked from head to toe.

They go back into the rest area, where there are still several dry beds, and in the darkness of the room they manage to each find one. Pascal announces that she's taking off her clothes so she's not so wet, and Hubert sputters and practically screams at her not to, but she laughs and promises him that she'll cover up with a sheet. "Besides," she says, "it's so friggin' dark in here... you're never going to be able to see anything anyway."

"Put on something _else_, then!" he protests - only to be reminded, quite cheerfully, that _all_ of their clothing is wet.. including his. So _he_ doesn't have much of a choice, either, does he?

He rather reluctantly strips off his own clothing and places it all neatly on the floor near his bed of choice, grabbing a sheet and wrapping it tight around his waist. He's glad for the darkness inside the ship - it's almost pitch black - but he still feels uncomfortable without anything on. At least, he thinks, he will be in his own bed, and Pascal will be in hers, and there's no chance that she'll see him without his clothes -

"Hey," he hears her begin, just as he's settling down on his mattress of choice, "can I come over there?"

He sits straight up, sputtering. "N - NO!"

"Aww, please?"

"Absolutely_ not_. That is one of the most inappropriate things you have _ever_ suggested - "

"Boo," she cuts him off, sourly, and he hears a shuffling of something that might be sheets against a blanket. "You're no fun. We just spent like an hour and a half making out and you don't even wanna be around me anymore?"

"Two hours," he mutters, and then feels his face flush hot, because there's no need for her to know that he'd been counting those precious minutes, trying to seal the thoughts and touches and sounds into his memory. She hears him and giggles, and he sighs loudly, knowing he's lost this battle already. "If you must," he says, and hitches up the sheet wrapped around his waist until it's covering most of his chest, too, "but I beg you to refrain from doing anything - anything -_ strange_."

"Fine," she agrees, laughing, "no funny business, I promise." After a moment he hears the soft sound of her footsteps on the floor. He lies down again and moves on his bed until he's only occupying one side, and he feels the mattress shift as she sits down on the opposite end. "Much better," she announces, and a few seconds later she is curling up beside him, close but not quite touching, her head falling to rest against his pillow. "Mmm, I think this bed's actually a lot more comfy than the one I was on..."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, I mean, we replaced all the mattresses on the ship at one point or another, 'cause the ones in here originally were all old and stinky, but we got them at different times, so..." He hears her make a soft noise as if she's stretching. "This one is waaaay better than all the others. I could sleep here for days."

He chuckles. "Certainly you aren't looking for an excuse to spend the next few nights on the same bed as me."

"Oh, I don't need an _excuse_ for that."

"Don't you?"

"Nope," she says, and before he can stop her she leans close and presses her lips to his. He stiffens, uncomfortable and nervous, and she obviously notices. "Hey," she murmurs, breaking the kiss, "you don't have to be so uptight. It's just me."

"Pascal - "

"Seriously." He feels something soft on his chin - her fingertips - and the mattress squeaks as she shifts on it, moving closer to him. "Relax," she urges him, her voice gentle and almost tempting, somehow, as if she's trying to coax him into something - and oh lord, she probably is - "I'm not going to do anything weird. I just don't want to be apart from you right now, okay? I know we've been kissing a ton already, but I don't know if I can get tired of it..."

"You will tire of me eventually. Of that I am certain." He rolls away from her, folding his arms stiffly across his chest, and wishes he had an additional blanket to cover himself with. It is bad enough that spending two hours with her in his arms had led him to entertain some... interesting thoughts... but now that she's here, up close, he's worried that he won't be able to keep himself from acting in a way that is entirely morally wrong. He is impossibly happy and relieved to know that his feelings are returned, but Pascal is over-the-top with _everything_, including romance, and -

"Hu," he hears her murmur, and her hands settle on his bare shoulders, sending a bolt of heat through him, "that isn't fair. You can't always turn your back on me when you're scared of something."

"I am _not_ scared."

"Are you sure?" She runs her fingers across his skin and he stiffens again, trying to move out of her grasp, and he hears her make a noise of frustration. "Hu, come on..."

"I am not scared," he repeats, but the phrase comes weaker this time, because he knows he's lying and so does she. He closes his eyes, frowning, and there's a long, quiet pause between them that is interrupted only by the sound of rain against the top of the ship and what might be thunder in the distance. Eventually he speaks again, slowly, trying to choose his words as carefully as possible. "I am happy to have this - to have you - but I... I see no way that I will tire of you. I have waited so long, and you are - there isn't a word for the way I feel, Pascal, I - "

"Sure there's a word. It's love, silly." She curls against his back, her hands moving against his shoulders, and it takes him a moment to realize that she's trying to reassure him, that her intention really isn't to make him uncomfortable or upset. "It's okay," she murmurs, "really, it is. It's okay to feel like this. It's okay to be with me. You don't have to feel scared. You don't have to run away. I know this is all really new, and it's kind of... weird, I guess. I didn't really know what I was doing, out there, and I know you didn't either, but that's fine. We're going to learn together, aren't we?" She squeezes his shoulders, and he feels her press her lips to the back of his neck. "We've done enough running away from this, you know? Neither of us have to be scared anymore, 'cause there's nothing to be scared of."

He exhales, feeling his heart fluttering in his chest; something about her words is reassuring, and they are perhaps exactly what he needs to hear, right now. "But if you tire of me," he starts, "or I say something - wrong, again - if I lose you - "

"You won't lose me. You _can't_ lose me._ Ever_." He feels her kiss his skin again, her lips lingering on his neck just a little bit longer. "And I'm not going to get tired of you. I love you, okay? I... gosh." She laughs, her hair brushing against his back as she apparently shakes her head. "I'm so not used to saying that out loud... it's been stuck in my head forever, but actually telling you..."

He opens his eyes, swallowing. "Say it again."

"You want to hear me say that I love you?" She laughs a second time, rubbing his shoulders. "Okay. I love you. Is that enough? Or do you want to hear more?"

"What more is there?" He shifts on the bed, rolling onto his back, feeling her move beside him until she's close, one of her hands resting carefully on his chest. "_Is_ there more?"

"Of _course_ there's more," she answers, as if he's silly for even questioning her. "I haven't told you how _much_ I love you. And that is a _lot._ I love you so much that I'd take a bath every day for you - " He chuckles suddenly, caught off guard by this, and she giggles before she continues. "I mean it! I'd take two whole baths every day if you asked me to. I love you more than I love my research, more than I love inventing stuff, more than - gosh, probably even more than bananas, and banana pie - all things bananas. I love you more than every single little star in the sky, and there's, like, millions of stars, Hu, millions and _billions_, and I love you more than all of them combined."

"You aren't making any sense," he chides her, but he's smiling in the dark, almost overwhelmed by her words, and his heart is beating fast and feels like it's going to burst. "You impossible... beautiful, _wonderful_ girl, I - " He reaches for her, slipping a hand around the back of her neck, and pulls them close until they're lying side by side, close enough so that he can feel her breath on his lips. "I love you," he says, but the words aren't enough, will never be enough. "I love you more than you can comprehend, more than it should be possible to love another human being, and I will love you for the rest of my life, Pascal, I promise you - if that will make you happy, I will be yours forever."

She sighs, leaning into him, giving him a kiss that lasts scarcely a second. "Do you promise?" she asks. "No more running away?"

"I promise." He returns the kiss, then begins another, and when he feels her reach up to hold his shoulder tight, he forces his lips away from hers, wanting to say just one more thing before he loses himself completely. "But _you_ must promise to never leave my side."

"Of course," she agrees, like it's nothing for her, like it's easy, and when she presses her lips to his chin he can actually feel her laughing, her chest shaking slightly against his own. "You are never gonna be able to get rid of me, Hubert," she tells him, and the sound of his name in her mouth sends him tumbling head over heels in love with her again, and he breathes her name into her ear before bending to close the distance between them. The kiss is long and sweet, and strips him clean of his fear, his doubts, his sadness, and he thinks that he will never need anything more than this, than _her_, as long as he lives.


	6. the rescue I

**author's note: **This is the second shortest chapter so far. I had originally planned on "the rescue" being one long chapter, but it would have been WAY too long. Thus we now have parts one and two.

Since you've all been so patient - except for my friends Elle and Shizz, of course, who flooded my tumblr inbox with messages demanding this chapter - your reward is some mushy, squishy, happy feels with romance and a few references to... _other_ things. Enjoy it, because 99% of you are going to hate me halfway through the next chapter.

* * *

**islands in the sea**  
chapter six - _the rescue (part one)  
_

* * *

Hubert starts awake the next morning with a loud gasp, sitting up straight in bed with his eyes and mouth both wide open. He'd been dreaming of Yu Liberte - of coming home to find everything changed and twisted and confusing, his position lost to another man and his father disowning him; Pascal had been gone, had simply disappeared, and he'd been searching for her in vain -

He takes a breath, calming himself, and the nightmare begins to recede quickly away from his mind. Everything is fine, he tells himself, because he is still on the island. And Pascal is here, beside him, on their shared bed. And...

He releases the sheet that is gripped tight in both hands, allowing it to pool around his waist, and draws in another careful breath. His gaze moves from the bed to the scene around him; they are still inside the ship, in the rest area, and as he listens he hears the light pattering of raindrops on the structure around him, sees murky gray light through the open door and large crack in the aircraft that lies beyond. Clothing is scattered on the floor around their bed, and beside him Pascal is still sleeping soundly. The Amarcian is curled up on the mattress with her knees drawn up close to her body, a thin sheet wrapped around her, and she's snoring softly with her head propped up on two pillows. Hubert watches her for a moment, and he isn't sure what to think; as he remembers the evening before, he expects to feel guilty, but...

But there is no guilt, no shame, not even a sense of wrongdoing, and when he releases his breath, he finds himself smiling. It's because of her, of course. If it had been anyone but her, he would feel differently about what he has done.

He sighs, lifting a hand to rub his tired eyes. Things are a bit fuzzy for him, and he doesn't remember all the details. He isn't quite sure when their kisses had progressed into careful touches and gentle strokes, or when both of them had thrown aside the sheets in favor of full body contact. He doesn't remember exactly how she had convinced him to keep going... but he _does_ remember listening to her breathe her love into his ear, remembers her encouraging him, begging him not to stop. He'd lost control of himself, and she had done the same, but it had felt good, so breathtakingly, impossibly, ridiculously_ good_. He thinks again, as he watches her sleep, that there really hadn't been any shame in it after all. It had been intimate and wonderful and full of love, and after years of waiting for even the slightest bit of affection from her, he is honestly and thoroughly... happy.

It's strange, he thinks, to feel this way - to be happy, truly happy, without a care in the world. But he_ is_ happy now, and it's all because of_ her_.

He spares a glance at the dreary weather outside of the ship before deciding that he has no motivation whatsoever to leave, even to fish or to see if the lightning and thunder from the evening before have caused any damage to the island. He would much rather stay inside and have a banana -

He chuckles, suddenly, at this thought, and shakes his head. "You're rubbing off on me," he says, out loud, and Pascal stirs beside him but doesn't wake. He smiles - even though it still feels strange, to be smiling so frequently - and doesn't bother reaching for his glasses before he shifts on the mattress, lying down beside her. He reaches out and carefully brushes intermingled white and red locks of hair away from her eyes, and she stirs again, her pale eyebrows creasing as she slowly wakes. "Good morning," he murmurs, watching her open one eye.

"Hrmmm... oh... _oh_ - " Both of her eyes snap open, and she stares at him as if she's seen a ghost, but Hubert knows full well that she is remembering the evening before; after a few seconds her expression changes into a smile, and she laughs before releasing a huge yawn, rolling onto her back and straightening out her legs. "Mornin', handsome."

"Han - what - " He blushes despite himself and wonders just how long it will take for him to stop doing such an embarrassing thing. "D - don't _call_ me that!"

"There are a ton of other things I can call you instead." She stretches her arms above her head, releasing a noise of satisfaction as her shoulders crack. "But if you think "handsome" is bad, you probably don't wanna hear the rest of the list."

"... probably not." He sighs softly, but he can't really be irritated with her, not on the first morning that they're waking up together - not while they're both naked in bed except for a pair of tangled bedsheets between them. "The weather is still quite disagreeable," he comments, with a short nod at the rain visible through the gap in the pieces of the ship. "And I am afraid I have no interest in going out in it at this very moment."

"Yuck. Well, we've got no choice but to stay inside, then." She rolls over, toward him, and slings an arm around his neck with a grin and a wink. "Buuuut I think we can keep ourselves busy."

"Pascal - "

"Shush," she says, and kisses him hard enough to take his breath away. When they part, her eyes have fallen to his chest, and he lowers his head to watch her trace the faint outline of a bruise with her fingertips. "I forgot how hard I punch when I'm angry," she murmurs, and gives him a lopsided smile as he lifts a hand to stroke one of her cheeks. "I feel pretty rotten for doing something like that to you."

"It doesn't hurt."

"But - "

"Even if it did hurt, I can't say I would mind." He shifts on the bed, carefully pushing her onto her back so he can lean over her. He runs his fingers across her cheek, loving the way her skin feels, and can't help but be amused by the way she trembles just the slightest bit when his touch strays close to her neck. "I deserved it. You know that just as well as I do."

"I guess, but..." She looks up at him, her eyes searching his, but then he bends to kiss her again and she seems to forget all about protesting. After a moment her arm falls from his neck to his back, her fingertips dragging down along the length of his spine, and he shivers so violently that she giggles in response. "You know," she murmurs, "don't get me wrong, I liked doing it in the dark, but... it's totally different to actually see you..."

He clears his throat. "It's - it's embarrassing."

"It really isn't." She smiles, lifting her head to press her lips to his, and this time the kiss is a little less romantic and a little more needy. "It isn't," she says, as his mouth falls to her throat, "because - we have to get used to this, you know? If we're going to stay together like this, we - _ah_ - " He glances up and watches her cheeks begin to color. " - w - we need to be comfortable with each other, and that includes... oh, _geez_, Hu, oh my _god_ - " Her voice rises to an entirely new pitch. " - you jerk, how did you figure out where -_ ahh!_"

"Perhaps there _are_ benefits to doing this kind of thing in daylight." He smiles to himself, studying the faint rosy marks on her neck apparently left from the evening before. "Wouldn't you agree?"

"Did I tell you to stop?"

"No," he laughs, and bends over her again. Five minutes later she's smiling and laughing and grabbing at the sheets around his waist with both hands, telling him to stop playing around and just do it, and he's all too happy to oblige.

* * *

Nearly an hour later, they're still in bed together; Pascal is half-asleep in Hubert's arms and he's stroking her hair and thinking about the future, wondering what they'll do when they return to Strahta. He's almost shocked by how easy it is to be with her, like this, to be himself, and he doesn't want to give that up. He wants what they have to last, and wants it forever, until he takes his last breath in this world and passes into the next. He looks down at her, curled against his chest with her eyes closed, and the very idea of leaving her now threatens to break his heart completely in two.

He wants to marry her. This isn't a new thought, of course - he's been entertaining it for months, even years - but he's now more certain of it than ever, and wants it because his heart wants it, because his heart _needs_ it. Before it'd been some kind of youthful attraction and fascination combined with a need to find a partner so he could avoid an arrangement with the president's daughter... but now he knows it's because he will never find anyone else so right for him. Pascal is exuberant and crazy and too smart for her own good, and at times he thinks she's borderline insane, but he craves her company when she's gone. When she's not with him, the world is dull and quiet, and he'd once thought that he wanted it that way, but now... now he can't live without her.

And as soon as he comes to that conclusion, the communicator at the front of the ship comes alive with a crackle of static.

"What in the," Hubert starts, but realizes almost immediately what he's hearing and shakes his companion awake. "Pascal."

"Hm... wha..."

"The communicator," he says, and releases her as he sits, "is making noise."

"Wha - " Her amber eyes snap open and she practically tumbles off the mattress to the floor, taking a sheet with her (and leaving Hubert to rather hurridly clap his hands over his groin, because she's taken his sheet and left him naked). "Holy _crap_, you're right! Maybe that's Fourier! I - wait here, I'll be right back!"

"Pascal," he groans, watching her stumble to her feet and run off in the direction of the front of the ship, "I am not simply going to stay here - hold _on_!" He fumbles with the remaining sheet until it's wrapped securely around his middle, grabbing his glasses from the floor and sliding them on his face, and then he rises and hurries after her. When he reaches the cockpit, he finds his companion sitting on the floor with one end of the communicator in her hands, laughing loud and breathlessly. "What is it?" he asks, raising both eyebrows. "Was it - "

"PASCAL, THERE IS NOTHING _FUNNY_ ABOUT THIS!"

" - Fourier," Hubert finishes, and rather easily bends to pluck the communicator out of Pascal's hands. "Hello," he begins, clearing his throat. "Are you able to hear me?"

"Yes, I can hear you just fine, and if you would kindly slap some sense into my sister, I would_ greatly_ appreciate it." Fourier's voice is sharp and loud and definitely real, and he hears her sigh, the sound sending another crackle of static through the device. "Do you know that the entire Strahtan military is preparing to search for the two of you? You have been missing for days, and apparently presumed dead by some, and all I receive in return for my concern is Pascal laughing at me like some kind of_ loon_!"

"It's just," the younger Amarcian speaks up from the floor, still breathless, "that the first thing - you said, was - was "are you alive?" and - you were talking to me, so of _course_ I'm alive! Hahaha - "

"I was _worried_ about you, moron! What did you _expect_ me to say?!"

"Aw, sis, it's just - " She giggles and wipes at her eyes with one hand, grinning up at Hubert. "I'm really happy to hear your voice."

"We are both fine," he says, turning his eyes to the communicator in his hand, "but we are unfortunately stranded at the moment. Our ship was..." He pauses, clearing his throat, wondering how to describe such a thing delicately to Fourier. "... rendered immobile," he tries, "upon landing on one of the islands."

"Immobile? Pascal, what does he mean?"

"Uh..." She laughs awkwardly. "He means the ship's broken."

"You did mention something about that, but... _how_ broken is the ship?"

"Like, _totally_ broken. Um... sort of ruined, actually. Snapped clean in half." She exchanges a nervous glance with her companion. "The engine failed, and the backup engine still wasn't working, so we kinda came in for a crash landing and then _pow_! And then - "

Fourier's voice raises to a high-pitched screech. "YOU TOLD ME YOU WERE GOING TO FIX THAT!"

"I forgot! I mean, why would anybody need two engines? I was totally busy, and - "

"What if you had been_ killed_, Pascal?!" The older Amarcian lets out another sigh, and this time Hubert winces at the crackling sound that comes out of the communicator. "You are both lucky to have survived, but to have ruined an ancient Amarcian ship - argh!" There's a faint thumping sound, as if she's slamming a fist into something. "Fine. I suppose it doesn't matter. We will have to concern ourselves with the ship at a later time. Right now every soldier in Strahta is preparing to launch a search for the two of you. Malik rushed over here to notify me that you were missing, and I came back here to check for communication from your ship... thankfully."

"Yeah, I'm glad you got our message. Another day or two out here and I woulda died from boredom." Pascal smiles, jumping to her feet, fiddling with the edge of the sheet that's wrapped around her body. "Sooooo... do you think you can fly out here and pick us up?"

"Well... I assume it will be my duty to rescue you. It would be pointless to wait for anyone to arrive by sea when my own ship is _much_ faster." Fourier's voice softens slightly. "I will come as soon as I am able. Will the two of you be alright for a few more hours?"

"We have survived this long. I hardly think an additional morning will make much of a difference." Hubert passes the communicator back to Pascal, using both hands to hitch up the sheet around his own waist, glad to have caught it before it slipped. The Amarcian notices and giggles, and he blushes and looks away, wondering again when he's going to stop being so embarrassed by his own body. "We are on the southernmost island," he says, raising his voice so Fourier can still hear. "Please notify the president of our safety prior to your departure. There is no cause for concern on his part, as we are both alive and well. Furthermore, you can also tell him that we will present a full report on our findings upon our return to Yu Liberte."

"That sounds reasonable. I'll pass on your message." There's a pause, and then Fourier speaks again, her words coming slower. "Pascal... I am glad you are alright. But you must promise to stop scaring me like this - and from now on, you must not drag Hubert into any more of your schemes. You will be lucky if the president of Strahta doesn't reprimand you for nearly killing a member of the military."

"Eh, I'm pretty sure he'll get over it."

"_Pascal_ - "

"I agreed to accompany her for the sake of my nation. What happened to the ship was an accident." Hubert turns to face his companion, reaching out with one hand to smooth her unruly hair, and she smiles up at him. "Mr. Paradine is a reasonable man. I am certain he will understand."

"... did something happen to you, Hubert? I expected you to be far more upset about this."

He clears his throat, his hand moving to settle on one of Pascal's shoulders. "It is no use complaining. My energy was better suited for keeping the two of us alive - "

"Did you hit your head when you landed? Or did Pascal drug you with some kind of concoction made up of salt water and poison? Is she holding you at gunpoint asking you to speak kindly of her?"

"Sis, c'mon, knock it off." Pascal groans, rolling her eyes. "I didn't do anything to Hu. Seriously, there's no point in complaining - "

"But this is not like him at all." Fourier begins to sound suspicious. "In fact, both of you sound rather pleased with yourselves, despite being stranded on an island for several days..."

"S - sis, it really isn't anything you need to - "

"W - what _exactly_ have the two of you been doing out there all this time?!"

"Nothing!" Hubert and Pascal chorus, and it's the younger Amarcian who thinks fastest, lifting the communicator closer to her mouth and speaking as quickly as she can. "We're waiting for you, so come rescue us really quick, okay?! We're gonna go pack up our stuff and clean up the island and we'll be here when you get here so - so okay, bye Fourier, see you soon!" She shuts off the device and flings it at the floor with a yelp, and when she lifts her eyes to Hubert's again, he sees that her face is flushed. "Was it really that obvious?" she asks quietly.

"It may have been." He pats her shoulder gently, shaking his head from side to side. "It is of no matter to me. She will have to learn of our relationship eventually. For the time being, we should concern ourselves with doing as you said."

"Yeah, I guess we should clean up..." She smiles slightly. "We're gonna be rescued, huh...?"

"You don't seem happy about that."

"I dunno, Hu. I would have liked another day or two here with you." She moves close to him, leaning up to wrap her arms around his neck, and he pulls her into a tight embrace without any other prompting on her part. "I was hoping we'd get some more time to like... make out, or fool around, or talk about our feelings and stuff. Now we're gonna go back to Strahta, and I'm gonna have to talk to the prez, and then you're probably gonna get in trouble after all, and Fourier - "

"Don't worry about that," he interrupts, closing his eyes. "We will have time for those things, and I am completely unconcerned with how your sister or Mr. Paradine will react. What happened to the ship was an accident, as I have told you already." He presses his chin to the top of her head, letting out his breath. "What is important is that we remain together."

"Mm, yeah, I guess so..."

"Now that we have grown so close, I..." He pauses, trying to steady the words as they leave his mouth. "I cannot leave you, Pascal. I do not wish for you to be away from me, even for a moment. After the time that we have spent waiting for one another, the suggestion that we might be apart is something that I cannot fathom. If - if you meant the promise that you made me, that you would never leave my side, then I... I..."

"Are you - " She draws back, and when he opens his eyes he sees her staring up at him, open-mouthed, her cheeks still rosy. "Hu..."

"I..." He releases a nervous laugh, and he's surprised by the sound, but he's even more surprised at himself, at how easily he's speaking right now. Only a day before he'd been convinced that he would never have this opportunity, but now... "This is not the way I planned on - on any of this," he says, swallowing hard. "But before we are rescued, there is something I would like to ask you."

"I get it..." She smiles up at him. "You're serious about this, huh?"

"I would like to - to ask, but - " He reaches up with one hand to rub his forehead, then adjust his glasses. "I hardly think this is appropriate, considering our current - state - " He gestures at the two of them, still covered only by sheets. "And I haven't prepared any sort of proposal, or thought about what to say to you, or - "

"It's okay, Hu. This doesn't have to be difficult." Her smile is wider now. "Just say it."

"I - but I don't have a - " He turns his head away. "I don't have a ring, and this isn't the way I wanted to - "

"I don't care. Seriously."

"Pascal..."

"Do I have to do it for you?"

"No! I - " He bites his lip, drawing in a nervous breath, and it's then that he decides that it's now or never. He reaches for one of her hands and pulls it away from his neck, clasping it carefully between both of his. He brushes his thumb once across her ring finger, and when he lifts his eyes to hers, the words come easy, almost naturally. "Pascal," he begins, quietly, "when we return to Strahta, I would - I would like to have your hand in marriage. Please become my wife."

There's a long pause, and Hubert's words hang heavy in the air of the ship's cabin, but finally Pascal speaks, softly, surely: "Okay."

"O - _okay_?" he stammers. "You - "

"Like I said, okay. We'll get married. But only if you promise to get me fresh bananas every day, and do all the cooking and cleaning, and not interrupt me when I'm trying to invent something." She nods. "And... and you have to let me call you Hu no matter what, buuuut... I'll call you Hubert every now and then, I guess... But - hey, but if anybody asks..." Her voice begins to tremble, and Hubert feels the corners of his mouth turn up as she shifts her eyes away from his. "If anybody asks, you had to woo me and impress me and treat me like a queen for like three straight years before I agreed, alright? I don't want anybody thinking I just kinda, like, gave in or whatever - "

"Anything." His voice is as warm as his heart in his chest, and he smiles and bends to her, silencing her with a kiss, and then she giggles softly into his mouth and he can't help but smile even wider. He takes her face in his hands and lifts it gently, wiping away the tears that he sees beginning to inch out of the corners of her eyes. "You will have all the bananas your heart desires," he says, and she giggles again, sniffing. "And if anyone dares speak ill of my wife, I will parade them in front of the firing squad."

"Ooh, you really are serious about this..." She lifts a hand to lazily ruffle his hair, sniffing again. "Pascal Oswell has a nice ring to it, yeah?"

"It is the most beautiful name in the world."

"Oh, gosh, when did _you_ turn into such a sap?"

"The moment I fell in love with you," he answers, and bends to kiss her again, and when she starts laughing he is happy to join in.

* * *

By the time Fourier's small aircraft circles the island, Hubert and Pascal are sitting together in the sand a short distance away from the ship, their bags packed full and placed on either side. The rain has stopped and the sky is slowly clearing, revealing shades of faint blue behind the grayish clouds. They've bathed and are dressed in their clothing from the first day - Hubert in his uniform and Pascal in shorts and a shirt with a bright blue scarf tied carefully around her neck - and they both watch in silence as the silver ship passes by once overhead. "Welp," the Amarcian murmurs, "guess it's about time for us to head back, huh?"

"Are you ready?"

"Honestly? No." She laughs softly, leaning over to one side so she can rest her head on Hubert's shoulder. "Fourier's gonna think I'm nuts when I tell her I agreed to marry you."

"I have a feeling that she already thinks such a thing, Pascal." He tries to force back the smile that is fighting to take over his mouth. "And _I_ cannot help but question your sanity for agreeing to become my wife. Perhaps you _are_ insane, considering it was just yesterday that you struck me and stated that your intent was to never see me again - "

"Aw,_ shut up_," she interrupts, with a dramatic roll of her eyes, and reaches out to tap a fist lightly against the bottom of his chin. "You know full well I was head-over-freakin'-heels in love with you the whole time. I wouldn't have gotten so dang upset if you hadn't been acting like such a _jerk_."

"Of course. I fully deserved all of your anger." He gently wraps his fingers around her wrist and lifts it, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. "But now?"

"... buuuut now I think I'm pretty happy." One corner of her mouth turns up in a lopsided smile. "And I think that _you're_ the crazy one for wanting to be around me like this. Aren't you worried about me driving you bonkers? I mean, if you thought going on adventures and getting stranded on an island like this was bad, how do you think you're gonna cope with _living_ with me?"

He presses his lips to her hand a second time. "I am sure we will both manage. Our love for one another will help us through any difficulties we may encounter."

She sighs loudly. "You really_ are_ a sap."

He smiles at her remark but doesn't say anything else, releasing her wrist only so he can slip his hand around hers and hold it tight. They both watch as Fourier's ship sweeps back into view, lower this time, and it circles the beach in front of them once, twice, and finally a third time before coming in for a landing on the edge of the shore. The aircraft is obviously new, gleaming silver in the sun, and not nearly as large as the ship that sits broken behind the two of them. "I wish_ I_ had a ship like that," Pascal mutters, her head still on Hubert's shoulder. "I bet it never ever has engine failure or has to run on solar power to get even the communicator working."

"Why don't you build one?"

"'cause I have so much else to work on, geez." She sighs again as the ship becomes still on the sand. "Not like it matters, though. After this whole thing, Fourier's probably gonna try to forbid me to leave my room for a month."

"I fully expect you to be my wife in a month, Pascal."

"... really?" She lifts her head, blinking up at him, and then she grins. "Guess you'll be the one in charge of me then, huh?"

The side door of the ship opens, and the two of them look up, expecting to see Fourier emerge - but instead it's another familiar face, and they speak in unison with surprise in their voices. "Captain Malik?!"

"Well, well. Don't the two of you look cosy out here on your own private island?" Malik laughs as he exits the ship and walks in their direction, raising one hand in a casual wave as he approaches. "I hope you don't mind the intrusion. I'm sure you're both _very_ unhappy to be leaving after spending so much quality time together - "

"Aw, _stuff_ it, Captain." Pascal jumps to her feet, tugging Hubert along with her, and the grin that appears on Malik's face as he comes to face them is absolutely enormous. "Why are _you_ here? Where's my sister?"

"Fourier is right behind me," he says, nodding over his shoulder, and it's at that moment that they see a familiar shock of white and red hair emerging from around the other side of the aircraft. "And I'm here because _your_ father - " He points at Hubert. " - contacted me in a panic about how you had gone missing. I was still in Oul Raye on business when he found me. I'm not sure why he thought he could trust _me_ to retrieve you, but he insisted that I be part of this little search and rescue mission."

"I see." Hubert exhales, shaking his head. "I had all but forgotten about my father. I'm sure he will be just as loud and obnoxious about this event as - " He glances abruptly at Pascal and sees her biting back a laugh, which is permission enough for him to continue his sentence. " - other mutual acquaintances of ours."

"PASCAL!"

"Speaking of which..." He peers around Malik's broad shoulders and sees a very angry Amarcian storming up the beach, hands clenched into fists at her sides. "Captain Malik, you may find it necessary to interfere over the course of the next few minutes."

The older man chuckles. "I'm two steps ahead of you, Hubert."

"PASCAL, I OUGHT TO DRAG YOU HOME BY YOUR HAIR AND - " Fourier is yelling when she arrives, and Hubert watches, rather amused, as Malik gracefully turns and catches her with one arm as she makes an attempt to lunge at her younger sister. "You - you let me _go!_" she shrieks, glaring up at him. "You have no right to restrain me in such a way!"

"I beg to differ." He makes a "tsk"ing sound at her, as if he's scolding a misbehaving child. "You know full well that what happened to your sister was an accident. You should be grateful that she and Hubert both are safe and sound."

"She should have fixed the engine!"

"Yeah, and _you_ shoulda let me use your ship instead of that rickety old thing." Pascal grins up at her sister, taking a step forward, and she reaches out with the hand that's not still wrapped around Hubert's to pat Fourier on the head. "We both knew it was only a matter of time before it went kaput, right? It's okay, sis! We got a lot of use out of it before we crashed."

Fourier looks angry enough to hurt someone, and Hubert has a feeling that if Malik were to release her, her hands would immediately find their way around someone's throat - probably Pascal's, maybe Malik's, maybe even his. "You," she growls at her sister, "are far too old to be - to be this _irresponsible!_ Destroying a piece of Amarcian technology - "

"We can fix it, y'know."

"THAT IS _NOT_ THE POINT!"

"Fourier," Malik interrupts, patiently, "what did I say about being grateful?"

"You - " She rounds on him, yanking out of his grasp, and glares up at him with such hatred in her amber eyes that Hubert almost expects the captain to drop dead on the sand. "Your speaking privileges have been revoked. Be quiet."

"Now, now, that's hardly - "

"SHUT _UP!_"

" - fair," he finishes, with a sigh. "Honestly... when will you stop acting like this? It's been almost a year that I've known you and you're still treating me like you want to murder me in cold blood."

"When will I stop? As soon as I can conceive a way painful enough to kill you. That is when I will stop."

Pascal lets out a low whistle. "Man, my big sister must be pretty mad right now..."

Hubert tries not to chuckle - he tries as hard as he can - but the sound sneaks out anyway, and Fourier stops glaring at Malik long enough to shift her attention to him. "Just what do_ you_ find so funny about this, Hubert?" she asks, arching one pale eyebrow. "You have been a victim of my sister's carelessness for several days, and yet you seem _happy_ to have been stranded with her. I fail to see how you can find _any_ part of this entire scenario amusing in any way."

Malik lifts a hand to his chin, the corners of his mouth turned up in a slight smile as he studies the lieutenant. "Since when do you laugh, anyway?"

"I have always laughed. Just not around_ you._" Hubert adjusts his glasses, clearing his throat. "Furthermore, it isn't as if Pascal and I have spent the entirety of our time here in misery. We had food and water, and plenty of things to do to pass the time - "

Pascal chimes in with an enthusiastic nod of her head, her voice full of cheer. "We went on an adventure!"

" - and, yes, we traveled to the central island and thoroughly investigated the Amarcian ruins." At this remark both of Fourier's eyebrows rise, and even Malik looks surprised. "We have much to report," he continues, "so I feel it would be best for us to return to Yu Liberte and speak to Mr. Paradine. If there are other concerns, they can be addressed at a later time."

"Hmm." Malik leans forward, his smile growing just a little wider. "I think I see what's going on here."

"N - nothing is going on."

"And that's why the two of you are holding hands?"

"Captain..." Pascal looks uncomfortable, but she doesn't drop Hubert's hand, and he doesn't make any effort to release hers, either. "Look, Hu's right... we can talk about this stuff later. Right now I really just wanna get back to solid ground and eat a huge meal... and like, take a hot bath or something."

"Pascal just said she wanted to bathe." Malik shakes his head, exchanging a meaningful glance with Fourier. "Something _must_ have happened."

"Aw, come _on!_"

"As I said, we can discuss these - things - " Hubert clears his throat. " - later. I am anxious to return to Strahta. If we could please be on our way..."

"Fine," Fourier sighs, tossing her hair over one shoulder, and frowns as she looks from Hubert to Pascal. "I suppose I_ was_ ordered to return you to safety as quickly as possible. Mr. Paradine asked that you both use the rest of the day to recuperate, and report to him immediately tomorrow morning, but he certainly didn't sound happy about the whole thing." She reaches out to tap her sister on the forehead with one finger. "You had better start preparing your apology now, Pascal. Endangering the life of a member of the military is one thing, but doing it multiple times - "

"Fourier." Malik interrupts before Hubert can, placing a hand on the older Amarcian's shoulder. "Remember. Be grateful."

"Don't_ touch_ me, you _oaf_!" she shrieks, and smacks his hand away, turning on her heel and storming off in the direction of the small aircraft that sits on the shoreline. Malik shrugs at Hubert and Pascal laughs, and then the three of them follow her. Before he climbs inside the ship, Hubert pausing, turning to look over his shoulder at the island - at the broken Amarcian ship that sits on the edge of the trees, at the charred remains of wood where they'd made their campfire, and at the spot on the shore where he'd heard Pascal confess her feelings for him -

"We'll come back." He hears the Amarcian's voice in his ear and turns back, seeing her leaning out of the ship, one gloved hand extended as if to reach for his. She smiles brightly at him, then shifts her attention to the scenery that he'd been looking at. "We'll definitely come back, even if it's just so we can repair the ship... or so we can visit this place again. It's got a lot of important memories attached to it now, y'know?"

"I would like that," he remarks, and lifts one hand to press it gently atop hers. "We will return in due time. I will do everything in my power to make it so."

"Then it's a promise!" she cheers, and abruptly yanks him into the ship, and when they collapse together on the floor, a tangle of arms and legs, all she does is laugh. He sputters and sends glares in Malik's direction as the older man starts to laugh as well, and Fourier makes a loud noise of disgust as she climbs into the cockpit and turns on the engine, but it's hard for Hubert to hide the fact that he is happier than he has ever been before in his twenty years alive.


	7. the rescue II

**author's note: **I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please hang on for the conclusion of the fic, okay? Please don't come to my house with pitchforks and torches. I promise this isn't the end. I _promise_.

* * *

**islands in the sea**  
chapter seven - _the rescue (part two)  
_

* * *

Hubert receives a lecture after barely five minutes back in Yu Liberte.

"What on earth were you_ thinking_?!" Garrett Oswell paces the floor in front of his adopted son, hands wringing together behind his back, lifting his head and sending sharp glances in the direction of the rest of his audience each time he reaches the end of his path and turns around. "I have told you time and time again that going on such foolish - _expeditions_ - is not doing you or the nation of Strahta any good. Do you have any grasp on how close to death you may have come, had I not requested Mr. Caesar's interference?"

"I am well aware of it," Hubert mutters. He is seated in a chair in the middle of the Oswell manor's formal dining room, his right arm extended to his side and held firmly in the grasp of a physician. The dining room is full of people, including two medical experts, a cluster of maids, a cook, and a military-designated messenger; Pascal is close by but not close enough, currently on the other side of the stately table being fussed at by Fourier and inspected by the other physician for signs of dehydration or injury. He wishes briefly that she was talking, chattering away as cheerfully as she had been earlier - but she's silent, which means she's able to hear everything Garrett is saying. "To be fair," Hubert says, meeting his father's eyes with his, "Captain Malik was not the reason we were rescued. Fourier was the one who heard our message - "

"The details are unimportant," Garrett interrupts, narrowing his eyes, and he doesn't stop pacing for even a moment. "You have acted quite rashly, going flying off into the wilderness with that Amarcian -_ companion_ of yours. Do you know what people are probably saying about you right now, Hubert? They are probably gossiping in the streets about you willingly abandoning your post to run away with a Fendelian _outcast_ - "

"Hey!" Pascal's voice isn't loud or strong, but she sounds indignant enough to get her point across. "I can't be an outcast if I'm not even part of Fendel. The Amarcian enclave is an independent structure with its own governing body and no political ties to any other country whatsoever. _Sheesh_. Get your facts straight."

"She is correct." Hubert says before his father can respond, seeing the older man beginning to go red in the face. No one really ever dares to talk back to Garrett Oswell, but Pascal is certainly not one to care about what other people do. "And as for those who might speak ill of me," he continues, "let them. I know why I agreed to venture out to the islands, and I heard no objection from _you_ when I spoke of it prior to our departure. I fully expect the president to be impressed with our findings. And if he feels that it is necessary to - " He winces suddenly, glancing to his side to watch the physician press another finger against the healing bruise on his forearm. "... to reprimand me, I will not protest."

"You truly feel that what you have done is appropriate?"

He has to remind himself that Garrett is speaking of the trip, not of other things that his son has done - things that he would have no knowledge of, thankfully. Had he somehow learned of the rest... well, Hubert would have expected the man's head to explode. "Our venture was fully sanctioned by the military - by Mr. Paradine himself. The ship's engine failed, and when it did, Pascal saved our lives. You should be grateful for that."

"_Grateful?_"

"Indeed." Hubert winces again and turns in his chair to look down at the physician. "Must you keep doing that?"

"I apologize." The dark-haired man releases his arm and reaches into a small brown bag on the floor beside him, retrieving a roll of white bandage. "My concern is that you may have suffered a minor bone fracture. I would like to compress your arm for a short period of time to ensure that it heals properly. If there is a fracture, it is likely very small, but I feel it better to be safe than sorry with regards to this matter."

"Fine," the lieutenant sighs, and reaches up with his opposite hand to push his glasses up on his nose. "Do what you must."

Garrett stops pacing and narrows his eyes at his son again. "_Why_, exactly, do you see fit to speak so rudely to the medical professionals that I called for both you and your companion out of concern for your health?"

"It is not my intention to be rude." Hubert leans back in his chair. "Perhaps I am somewhat terse because my own father sought to greet me after I spent several days stranded in the Strahtan sea not with an expression of gratitude for my safety or relief that my companion was unharmed, but with a proclamation of my foolishness shouted so loud that I expected the entire city to hear."

Malik has been quiet so far, standing in the far corner of the room next to the cluster of maids now whispering in hushed tones, but he snorts loudly at this, nodding appreciatively at Hubert. "And you thought _I_ greeted you inappropriately."

"Miss Pascal appears unharmed," the second physician suddenly announces, and all present turn to watch him leave her side, allowing her to jump to her feet and scurry around to where Hubert sits, his arm still extended. "Both she and Lieutenant Oswell are likely dehydrated, and it would do them good to have a hearty meal, but nothing else seems out of the ordinary." The tall man nods down at the Amarcian as he passes her, a slight smile on his mouth. "I must say, I expected nothing less from one of your kind. You must have excellent survival skills."

"Well, most of that was 'cause of Hu." She leans on the back of the lieutenant's chair, grinning. "We got lucky, getting stranded somewhere with fish and banana trees."

"We were very lucky," he echoes her, and nods at the tall physician, whom he recognizes from his childhood - a friendly, patient man who had nursed him back to health from more than one childhood illness. "Thank you," he says, earnestly. "I apologize for any rudeness, either real or perceived."

The doctor chuckles, and even the man currently bandaging Hubert's arm laughs, but Garrett makes a face so vile that his son expects him to start screaming right then and there. But he holds his tongue - thankfully - and turns on his heel to stride over to the maids, all who fall instantly silent at his approach. Garrett begins issuing them orders in a low voice, and they scurry quickly away in several directions (though not without each sending a purposeful look in the direction of a particular instructor standing in the corner). When he moves on to the cook, Hubert clears his throat, gesturing with his free hand for the military-appointed messenger to draw near. "Please tell Mr. Paradine," the lieutenant begins upon the young man's arrival, "that we are unharmed and will report to him early tomorrow morning."

"Yes, sir."

"Oh, and hey! You can give him this in the meantime." Pascal produces Hubert's filled notepad seemingly out of nowhere - he wonders when exactly she'd been digging around in his bag - and passes it to the messenger with a bright smile. "It's not, like, super duper top secret classified information or anything, so I totally wouldn't blame you if you took a peek. But I bet the prez will wanna see it right away, so if you're gonna look, do it now."

"Y - yes, ma'am." The young man looks flustered - probably an appropriate reaction to being greeted so casually by an Amarcian, once thought by Strahta residents to be an extinct race. "I will give this to Mr. Paradine immediately upon my return."

"Awesome! Thanks."

"Is there anything else that I should report, Lieutenant Oswell?" he asks, tucking the pad under one arm. "I will pass on word of your good health, of course, but..."

"Nothing else," Hubert responds, with a nod, and glances to his side at the doctor finishing the bandage around his arm. "You are dismissed. Thank you."

"Thank you, sir." The young man claps a fist to his chest and bows once before turning to leave. The lieutenant watches him for just a moment, trying to remember his name, but he's almost ashamed when he can't recall it. Two years ago, he would have known everything about the young man - his name, his history, his military training, and whether or not he was in line for a promotion away from the meaningless position of messenger - but Hubert has been chained to his desk for so long that he has become out of touch with the current state of things. And this, he thinks, is a reminder of what he's about to go back to -

"So..." Malik speaks up suddenly, departing the corner to cross the room slowly to the others. "... what will the two of you do now that you're back on solid ground?"

"I would hope that both Lieutenant Oswell and Miss Pascal rest for a few days," the taller of the two physicians speaks up, and his companion nods as he finally releases Hubert's arm and rises to his feet, picking up his bag as he does so. "Although their physical conditions are relatively good, I have read that extended exposure to unfamiliar elements combined with a lack of human contact can result in mental fatigue."

One side of Pascal's mouth jerks up into a smile. "Huh. So getting stranded on an island is bad for you, huh?"

"Essentially, yes. Although I must reiterate that the two of you were extremely lucky. You might have perished, had there not been a viable food source." The physician nods. "If there is nothing else to attend to, we will take our leave. Please feel free to contact our office if you experience any pain or illness."

"Thank you very much." Hubert stands, collecting the coat of his uniform off the back of his chair before extending his left hand to both men in turn. "I appreciate your attention. My father will address your bill."

"Oh, no charge. Consider it a favor, Lieutenant." The shorter of the two men waves a hand at him. "We're just glad to see you safe and sound. The entire city was on the verge of rioting when you were reported missing."

"Really now?" Fourier finally speaks up, raising one pale eyebrow. "Hubert is that important?"

"He's going to be president someday, after all - "

"I am going to be no such thing," Hubert interrupts, sliding his coat back on, and shakes his head at the amused smiles of both older men. "But I suppose I appreciate the sentiment. Thank you."

"You are most welcome."

Both men bow and take their leave, and Hubert notices then that the cook has departed as well, presumably to prepare lunch. Garrett waits until the room is clear before he strides back to the remaining group of four, casting what is assuredly an annoyed look at both Pascal and Fourier in turn before addressing his adopted son. "Hubert," he begins, "you ought to rest."

"I feel fine."

"Well you certainly do not_ look_ fine." Garrett sniffs. "You smell as if you are in need of a bath, and your uniform is dirty and torn. I will have to call the tailor to repair it for you. You also appear positively exhausted. I would beg you to go to your room and _sleep._"

"I am not tired, either." Hubert sighs. "Do you have any other concerns you would like to address in front of my guests? For instance, how my absence caused you such grief and despair that you require me to immediately sit with you and promise that I will _never_ leave the manor again, unless it is to marry the wealthy heiress or government official that you have chosen for me this week?"

Malik laughs out loud and Pascal releases a low whistle, nudging Hubert lightly in the side with one elbow. Garrett goes slackjawed and almost instantly turns red, and there's a moment of silence during which the man's growing rage can almost be felt. "You," he utters, when he becomes able to use words again, "have no right to speak to me in such a way."

"Perhaps I do not. I can't say that I care at this particular moment." Hubert looks at the Amarcian at his side, then to Fourier, who looks almost as angry as his father. He isn't sure he wants to know why that is - and he thinks he'll worry about that later, when he's finished dealing with his father. Garrett scowls and turns on his heel, storming out of the room without another word, and Hubert is certain he'll be hearing it later, but right now all he wants is peace and quiet.

Peace, quiet, and a bath, he corrects himself. There's one thing his father is right about, after all: he really doesn't smell very good.

* * *

Almost two hours later, Hubert and Pascal have both bathed, dressed in clean clothes, and eaten a lunch with Malik and Fourier. Garrett Oswell is nowhere to be found - one of the maids murmurs to Hubert that she'd heard him ranting to himself in his study, to which the lieutenant simply laughs - and so their meal is spent mostly in silence, save occasional questions from Malik that Pascal takes it upon herself to answer.

The cook has just cleared the dining room table and is leaving through a side door when Pascal lets it slip - "it" being a topic that Hubert had been hoping to avoid for the next few hours, at least until he'd spoken to his father. Malik has asked Pascal what she expects to do next, and Fourier is in the middle of a rant of how she expects her sister to be locked away in her room for at least three months when the younger Amarcian tips her chair back and giggles, folding her hands behind her head. "You can try to lock me away, Sis," she says, "but I'm pretty sure you won't be able to."

"The hell I won't." Fourier narrows her eyes at her sister. "I will put a lock on your door of my own creation if I must!"

"Go ahead, but it's not like I'm gonna be there."

"And where exactly do you expect to be, then?"

"With Hu," she answers casually, like it's the most simple thing in the world, and when Malik raises both eyebrows and Fourier sputters and Hubert nearly falls out of his chair, she looks at them all like they're crazy. "Huh? What's wrong with you guys? I mean, by then we're gonna be m - "

"Pascal!"

"What?"

"_Don't_." Hubert shakes his head, hard, pretending he doesn't see the knowing grin sneaking across Malik's lips - or the horrified expression on Fourier's face. "You cannot simply -_ talk_ about it like that. I haven't said a word to my father - "

"Oh, like you need to. He's gonna say no and tell you you're a moron no matter how you put it to him." She rolls her eyes. "I know what he thinks of me, alright? It's seriously not a big deal. But why can't we tell Fourier and Captain?"

"Yes, Hubert," Malik says, folding his hands together beneath his chin, "why can't you tell us?"

The lieutenant feels himself blush - from embarrassment or mortification, he's not sure which - and he lifts a hand to push his glasses up on his nose, pausing until he's determined exactly what to say. "I suppose it would be inappropriate to withhold such information," he begins, "but I would not feel comfortable with making any kind of announcement until I have made at least one attempt to reason with my father - "

"Reason schmeason!" Pascal grins and tips her chair back further, looking up at the ceiling. "Just tell them!"

"Pascal, this isn't something that you can merely_ announce_ at the _dinner table_ - "

"Says who? Quit being such a chicken."

"I am not a - a chicken!"

"You sure sound like a chicken. Bawk bawk."

"I - fine!" He leans forward, glaring at her until he realizes she's not even looking - and then he clears his throat, fiddling with his glasses again. "I have," he starts, and drops his gaze to the table, because Fourier looks like she might just rip his head off if he continues with his current sentence, "erm... asked - I asked Pascal - "

"We're getting married," she finishes for him, simply, and as uncomfortable as this situation is, Hubert is glad that at least she can speak of these things so easily. He feels some relief with the words out in the open...

... but then Fourier speaks and the relief drops sharply into the pit of his stomach and turns into cold, clammy dread. "Absolutely not."

Pascal sounds confused. "Wait, what? I thought you'd be happy."

"Happy? About_ this_?" The older Amarcian's voice is unusually sharp. "When, exactly, did the two of you decide it would be appropriate to marry? Was it before or after Pascal ruined the ship in a misguided attempt to bring you together?"

"A misgui... whaaa?"

Malik blinks down at Fourier, obviously perplexed - and just the slightest bit concerned, if the soft edge to his voice is to be believed. "Hold on a second. What are you going on about? The last time I saw you, you were talking about how you couldn't wait for Pascal to settle down. You kept saying you wanted her to find a husband so you could focus on your work and stop worrying about her - "

"That was before I learned just how irresponsible she really is." Fourier faces her sister, pressing her hands together atop the table, and she gives Pascal a long, hard look before shifting her gaze to Hubert. "Do you know," she begins, "that she had this planned out from the very start?"

"I - no I didn't! Fourier, what the heck are you_ talking_ about? I didn't plan anything - "

"Be quiet!" Fourier's eyes don't leave Hubert's, even as she cuts Pascal off mid-sentence. "Tell me," she says, "did you know that my sister was well aware of the problems with the main engine of that ship? And that she went as far as telling me that she doubted it would last for the entirety of your trip to the islands?"

"... what?"

"You can ask her yourself." Fourier nods at Pascal, who suddenly looks very pale. The younger Amarcian straightens her chair, staring down at her hands in her lap, and the way she sits without speaking worries Hubert in a way he doesn't like. "I had ordered her to repair the ship before leaving again, but didn't know that she was going out on her little adventure when she did. She waited until I had departed for the Amarcian enclave to run off and kidnap you. She knew full well that the ship would become unusable at some point during your trip."

"I didn't - it wasn't like that, okay? I knew it wasn't in good shape, but it wasn't like you told me it would fail when I had it up in the air - "

"Might I also add," Fourier continues, ignoring her sister's attempts to speak, "that when I heard she was missing and went to her room in the enclave, looking for clues as to where she might have gone, I found several things written in a diary of hers - "

"WHAT?! Wh - why would you read - ?!"

"Fourier," Malik says, gently, "you really shouldn't - "

"Shut up," she mutters, and glares at him once before turning to Hubert again. "She was really quite fond of the idea that the two of you would end up living together on one of those islands. She wrote at great length about it. In fact, I believe she was hoping that the ship's engine would fail when you attempted to leave, and then you would have no choice but to stay there together. She probably didn't count on it failing during your flight, but otherwise, she got exactly what she wanted, didn't she?"

"Pascal..." Hubert shifts in his chair to look at her, both eyebrows raised, and he's unwilling to believe that this is the truth. Fourier is a jealous woman, and an emotionally unstable one at that, so he really wouldn't put it past her to make something up. "Why is she saying this?"

"I - Hu, it's not like I - " The Amarcian doesn't lift her eyes, and her voice is unusually soft. "Look, I was just daydreaming about being alone with you. I didn't know the engine was gonna fail - "

"So it's a complete coincidence," Fourier interrupts, "that you wrote in your little book about how you wanted to be stranded with him, and about how nice it would be if you found out that he liked you? Is it also a complete coincidence that you said what you really wanted was for him to propose so you could finally marry someone? Am I to believe that all your ramblings about Hubert being the perfect person to settle for didn't lead directly to this?"

Hubert almost chokes. "Pascal - !"

"That isn't what I _meant_ by that!"

He can't keep the dismay out of his voice. "Then what did you mean? You said you would - _settle_ for me?"

"That's totally out of context! It was like a year ago when I said that, and I only said it _once_!"

"_Why?_"

"Look, I was lonely and I wasn't really in lo - it doesn't matter, okay? That was before all this!" She finally looks up, showing the tears that are beginning to gather in the corners of her amber eyes. "I didn't plan this. I promise. It was a _coincidence_. I was thinking about the trip, and sometimes I like to write things out, you know? So I was daydreaming a little bit about what might happen, and I was like "oh, man, wouldn't it be nice if we got stranded together?" 'cause if you read any of those crappy romance novels that Cheria likes, it's always the hero and heroine getting stuck together somewhere, and it resolves all their conflicts - "

"Did you expect me to propose to you?"

"... I - " She glances away. "I mean - I wanted that, and maybe I_ thought_ about it, but I didn't know - "

"_Answer me!_"

"Hu, don't _yell_ at me!" She tightens her hands into fists, smacking them into the table. "I didn't expect anything! I thought you hated me, and I didn't know how I felt for a really long time. What happened was that Fourier - " She frowns at her sister. " - started pressuring me to get married, and you were the only person I could think of who I could stand - I mean, I liked you - wait, this isn't coming out right - "

"I cannot believe this." He bows his head. "Do you know how long I - " He glances abruptly to Malik, but the older man looks hurt and concerned and not at all in the mood to jest, so he decides that he might as well go all the way with this. "Do you know how long I loved you? How many times I accompanied you on ridiculous trips and missions just because I wanted nothing to be by your side? Do you know - " His words catch in his throat but he forces them out, and there's a pain he'd all but forgotten creeping back into his heart, like an old, unwelcome but still familiar friend. "I never thought about settling for _you._ I have done nothing with my life but love you for almost three years. I waited for you to show some inclination of your feelings for me, and now that I finally feel something other than despair - " He shuts his eyes. "Did you really want this, Pascal? Did you really want to nearly kill us just so you could be alone with me? Just so I would finally find the courage to tell you my feelings, and give you everything I had - "

"It's not like that!" she insists. "I _swear_ I didn't plan this!"

"It certainly worked out well for you, though, didn't it?" Fourier actually sounds amused, and Hubert has to fight back the urge to lunge from his chair and strike her. "I remember what you said about Hubert. You said that he would take care of you, that he would never hurt you - "

Pascal's voice is getting hoarse with emotion now, and Hubert doesn't have to look to know that she's crying. "Stop it."

" - and that you'd be able to live out a comfortable life while he worked for the military, or maybe even became president - "

"Fourier, _stop_ it."

" - and that you'd never find anybody you ever really loved, so why not just settle for him? Because it was obvious that he liked you, after all, wasn't it? You said so yourself."

"_STOP IT!_"

"You _knew_?" He looks up, eyes wide, but Pascal is already sobbing into her hands and probably doesn't even hear him. "But," he says, and that coldness in his stomach turns bitter and painful, and suddenly all he wants to do is run away and leave and never come back. "But - "

"She knew." It's Fourier who answers, sighing as she does so, as if this is all very painful and horrible for her. "Of _course_ she knew. You were like a ridiculous little puppy dog, following her around with a lovesick look on your face. Why does this surprise you? Did she pretend otherwise? I suppose it doesn't surprise me, if she did." The older Amarcian shrugs her shoulders. "Pascal can be a very convincing actress when she wants to be. I'm sure she also told you about how awful I was to her, encouraging her to find someone to marry like the horrible, demanding older sister I am. How _dare_ I want someone to take care of my childish twenty-five year old sister so I can finally live my own life? Well, no matter." She exhales loudly. "You two most certainly won't marry now, will you? If you want to marry for love and she wants to marry for convenience, there's certainly no way of making it work - "

"Fourier, this has gone on long enough." Malik finally speaks up, and he stands with a grunt, shoving his chair away from the table so hard that it nearly tips over. "You're just putting thoughts in his head now."

"Thoughts? Or the truth?"

"With all due respect, I highly doubt your version of the truth is the right one." He reaches down and grabs her by one wrist, yanking her to her feet. "Come on. We're leaving these two alone for a while so they can sort things out."

"M - Malik, let me go right this instant!"

"No," he says, and pulls her away from the table. She fights him at first, but eventually she seems to realize that he is capable of dragging her the whole way out of the room and straightens, walking beside him. They leave the room - and then the house, as Hubert shortly hears the front door of the manor opening and slamming shut - and the massive dining room is silent save the soft sounds of a young woman crying to his side. He doesn't want to look at her, doesn't even want to think about what has just happened -

"Hu," she whispers, and the sound of that nickname in her mouth is suddenly painful, like a blade shoved deep into his heart and twisted, "you have to believe me. It's not like Fourier said. I promise."

"Then tell me the truth." He turns in his chair, reluctantly, to face her. "Did you know that I had feelings for you?"

"I don't know. I - " She sniffs, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. "I mean, I kinda... _guessed_... but the more time we spent together, the less right I thought I was..."

He swallows hard. "Was I really following you around like a lovesick_ puppy_?"

"I never _ever_ said that. That was all Fourier, I swear. Hu, _please_ - "

"And you were truly going to _settle_ for me?" The words taste vile in his mouth, and he wishes he'd never spoken them aloud. "That's why what you said what you did, isn't it - about the two of us marrying? You planted the seed, and you knew I would propose after I confessed to you, because I'd listened to you talk about how lonely you were, and how you wanted nothing but to live with me forever - "

"Stop it. _Stop it!_" She shakes her head frantically. "I wasn't lying! I never once lied to you!"

"Then why didn't you fix the engine?"

"Because I forgot, okay?!" She wipes at her eyes again, sniffing loudly. "I was too busy freaking out about the trip and worrying that you'd say no to think about it! And by the time I remembered that I hadn't repaired it, we were up in the air and the alarm was going off, and - seriously, it wasn't on purpose, and I only told Fourier once that I didn't expect it to last! I just forgot!"

"Somehow..." Hubert closes his eyes, feeling his hands tremble. "I would like to believe you. But this is too much."

"Hu, _no_. No, no,_ no_, don't."

"What - _how_ should I react to this?" He snaps at her, raising his voice, and he sounds angry but he is really just hurt, and his chest is starting to throb with some kind of uncomfortable pain. "How can I believe that you would joke about leaving us stranded on an island? What if we had been _killed_? All the time that I spent defending you, convincing you that it was an _accident_ - " He cringes. "And then to hear that you considered me nothing but some kind of suitable husband - to know that I spent so long in love with you while you simply toyed with the idea of marriage just so you wouldn't have to work - !"

"That's not how it was at all! I was confused!"

"And perhaps I have been confused as well. Perhaps I fooled myself, believing you to be the person that I wanted to spend my life with." He opens his eyes, rising unsteadily from his chair, and Pascal lets out a strangled cry and jumps to her feet, stepping close to him. She reaches for his hands but he yanks them away, avoiding her gaze, forcing himself not to look at her even as she releases a sob. "I am not foolish enough to believe that everything your sister said was the truth. But I am also not foolish enough to believe that everything she said was a lie, either. The extent of your falsehoods is certainly questionable, but you _did_ lie to me, didn't you?"

"Hu, please, _don't do this_."

"And what choice do I have?!" He raises his voice again. "Am I to simply go on pretending that this never happened?!"

"It doesn't - it doesn't freaking _matter_, okay?!" Her words are punctuated by sniffs and soft sobs. "That was all in the past. I didn't - I didn't lie. I do love you. I haven't - loved you for as long as you have me, but that doesn't matter. I didn't expect you to propose, I - I really didn't. I _promise_. Anything I said a while ago... me forgetting to fix the engine... I know it's all stupid, but it's _different_ now. It's completely - it's different." He sees her shake her head, her hair fluttering around her cheeks. "You can't just throw away everything we have because I did something - because I did or said some dumb things. I'm always doing dumb things. And maybe I did things once because of - because of bad, stupid reasons, but I love you now, and I - "

"Enough." He turns away, weary and upset, and absently touches his aching chest with the tips of his fingers. "I... I would like to be alone. Please go."

"Go - where?"

He shrugs. "It doesn't concern me. Find your sister and Captain Malik and leave with them, if you like. Or stay at the inn for the evening. I don't wish to see you right now. Perhaps tomorrow, once I have sorted out my thoughts - "

"That's it? Seriously?" He hears her draw in a breath. "You're just going to tell me to - to leave? Just because I said some stupid things to my sister once?"

"That isn't the extent - "

"How is this fair, Hu? _How?_"

"If you would let me finish a sentence - "

"No! This isn't_ fair!_ You're acting like I just broke your heart because I made a couple little mistakes! So it's totally okay for you to act like you hate me, and treat me like crap, and pretend you don't feel anything for me, and it's totally okay for you to just toss me out of your house because you want to be alone - " She stomps one foot against the floor. "I _love_ you, okay? But this isn't fair! We _both_ messed up! You can't just decide that you don't want to see me because of things that don't even matter - "

"They _do_ matter!" He rounds on her, hands clenched, and even when her eyes widen in fear he doesn't stop himself. "I refuse to marry a woman who once declared she would settle for me merely because I was kind to her or because I might become the president of Strahta - which, I will have you know, I have no intention of doing! I _refuse_ to marry for anything less than love, and by announcing so cheerfully that you once thought of me as some kind of_ last resort_, you are no better than the women my father parades into our sitting room and introduces to me as a potential mate!"

Pascal stares at him, her amber eyes huge and filled with tears, and it takes a moment before she can respond - but when she does, she draws herself up to her full height, looking directly at him, and her words come strong and steady and without emotion. "Fine," she says, "if that's how you see me, then forget it. I don't even _want_ to marry you. If you can't forgive me for not always being hopelessly in love with you - with you, the guy who treated me like I was annoying and stupid and pretty much _worthless_ for three full freaking years - then I'm better off leaving you now and never coming back."

They look at each other, silent, and Hubert feels what might be a pang of regret. She isn't wrong, but even so -

"Guess that's it then, huh?" Pascal forces a smile as she speaks, keeping the room from becoming quiet. "Said all you needed to say, yeah?"

"I - " He glances away. "Do you mean to say that you are calling off our engagement?"

"You know, I can't believe I ever thought I loved you." She doesn't answer him - instead she moves, brushing past him, walking quickly in the direction of the door. "I can't freaking believe I ever thought I loved somebody who got away with being a jerk just because he would sometimes be nice. That's a really messed up relationship. I think I'll be better off leaving."

"Pascal, wait."

"No." The answer is hard and final, and suddenly there are tears in Hubert's eyes. This has happened fast, too fast, and he's only now realizing what he's said and what is happening, and what he's about to lose, and - oh god, why, _why_ does he always have to be such a spectacular idiot about things?! He starts toward her but she speaks again, holding up one hand. "No," she repeats, and doesn't look at him. "We're done. I'm going home. And since I'm such a bother and such a horrible person, you will never,_ ever_ hear from me again. 'kay? So you can finally be happy, all on your own, sitting here in your big house with your rich dad and your awesome military job."

No, no, _no_. "Pascal, please wait. Let me - I need to just - I didn't - "

"You're not getting out of this one," she tells him, with a bitter laugh, and then she goes to the door and through it and is gone. He chases after her, but by the time he catches up she is outside, burying her head in the front of Fourier's shirt and sobbing, and the older Amarcian shakes her head at him and turns away. Malik looks at him and sighs, reaching out to touch his shoulder - but Hubert jerks away and walks back into the house, slamming the door behind him.

He goes to his room and locks the door and buries his face in a pillow and cries for the first time in a very long time. He doesn't know exactly why he's crying, and it feels revolting to react in such a way. But he cries long and loud, not caring if the maids hear or if Malik comes in to check on him, and eventually he falls asleep and doesn't wake again until the early hours of the morning.

* * *

At eight the next morning, when Hubert goes to the presidential palace, having skipped two meals and sporting dark circles under his eyes, Malik meets him on the front steps. The older man tells him in a low voice that Fourier and Pascal have gone back to the Amarcian enclave, and that he'll be leaving for Fendel the following day. He tries to reason with Hubert, saying that if he goes to her now, he has a chance -

"I don't deserve a chance," he says, simply, and pushes past Malik so he can enter the building. "She will be better off without me."

And twenty minutes later, as Hubert stands in Dylan Paradine's office and watches him review Pascal's notes with wide eyes and an enormous smile, he wishes for the first time that they had never been rescued. He would have been happier dying there on the island, because he would have at least died with Pascal, with the love of his life, with all his sins forgiven and his heart full and happy.


	8. aeroplanes

_I tried so hard, yes I tried so hard to be_  
_so calm_  
_but you'll take the aeroplane and I'll drive the other way back home_  
_back home_  
- Futures, "Aeroplanes"

* * *

**islands in the sea**  
chapter eight -_ aeroplanes  
_

* * *

The first week is torture, is long and painful and absolute hell.

He dreams of her every night, starts awake from nightmares in cold sweats or with unshed tears in his eyes, and every time he wakes he thinks of the way she left and blames himself. He should have done more, he thinks - should have said something, _anything_, to convince her not to leave. He should have stopped Fourier from putting those thoughts in his head, should have waited and allowed her to explain -

But he hadn't, and because of that, he is to blame for the way things are. He'd snapped at her, yelled at her, made accusations and acted rashly. He can't change that now. He replays the scenes in his head, over and over, and each time is a little more painful, a little harder on his weary heart.

He really is an idiot, he decides. And Pascal deserves better than that.

* * *

Paradine takes one look at him on his second day back in Yu Liberte and orders him to take a week of vacation. He protests and insists that he is fine, that he hasn't filed his report yet and says that the last thing he wants is more time spent lying around with nothing to do. But the president puts his foot down and tells him to go home and not to come back for another five days - and then he makes it an order, and the lieutenant goes storming home and locks himself in his room to alternately sulk and call himself a moron.

After the five days are up, Hubert finds himself back in Paradine's office, watching the older man flip through a familiar notepad. "We have been reviewing your notes - and Miss Pascal's diagrams and drawings, of course - for quite some time," he says. "You are as thorough as ever, Hubert. When your Amarcian friend told me of her discovery, I admit that I was reluctant to allow either of you to venture out into the wilderness unsupervised. But your unfortunate accident not withstanding, I feel that this mission was completed with great success. You have given us an extraordinary amount of information on these islands - more than I could have ever expected."

"Thank you, sir."

"I hope you don't mind, but I discussed your findings with the rest of the council in your absence." Paradine places the pad of paper on his desk, folding his hands together. "At this very moment, we are planning a full expedition to the islands. Our intention is to explore all seven isles to determine what, if anything, can be done with them. At the very least, they will be officially claimed by the government of Strahta - but several of my cabinet members have suggested colonizing them, or perhaps even establishing a new tourist attraction."

"... I see."

"I expect the expedition to leave by the week's end. I will go myself, of course, once I have finished up some other business in the city." The president raises one eyebrow at him. "Would you like to accompany us? I am certain you have quite a bit to catch up on, having been absent for the better part of two weeks, but we would of course welcome your presence and valuable input."

Hubert considers this briefly, and then the thought of seeing the islands again - specifically _their_ island - sends a cold chill through him, reminding him of something he is trying his hardest to forget. "I must decline," he answers, quietly, and avoids meeting the president's eyes with his own. "I am afraid I have a massive backlog of paperwork to attend to, and I would think it inappropriate to remove myself from the monster eradication operation for an additional week."

"True, true. I understand, of course." Paradine nods. "Well, we'll be certain to report our findings, and our decisions, to you upon our return. Were it not for you and Miss Pascal, we wouldn't even be aware of these islands. So I feel we owe you at least some involvement in this matter."

"You do not owe me anything, sir."

"Nonsense!"

"Sir, I - I say this as respectfully as possible, but I - " He lowers his head, staring at the carpet, and does his very best to keep his voice firm and steady. "With regards to this mission, I acted in a way that is - unbecoming - of a member of the Strahtan military. I appreciate your attempt to keep me involved with the development of the islands, but I feel it would be best if I were removed from the matter entirely."

Paradine sounds puzzled. "May I ask how you acted inappropriately, Hubert?"

"I accepted this - mission - no, I accepted Pascal's invitation because of a - a personal - reason." Hubert swallows. "I was not thinking of Strahta when I accepted. I was thinking only of myself. And I must confess that during my time on the island on which we were stranded, I did not take the appropriate actions to signal for a rescue - for example, building a fire and attempting smoke signals - nor did I complete all of the research that would have been possible, had I not been distracted - "

Hubert only stops because Paradine throws his head back and laughs. The president shakes his head, exhaling, leaning forward in his seat. "Please," he says, with a smile, "don't speak about yourself in such a way. I knew full well that you and Miss Pascal had feelings for one another. But I don't think it interfered with your expedition in the slightest."

"Sir - "

"The only thing I care about is that the two of you have returned safe and sound, and that this information - " He gestures to the notepad on his desk. " - is where it belongs. You have both made great discoveries in the name of our nation, and I am most grateful for that. So your reason for the expedition matters very little to me. If anything unrelated to your official business happened during your trip, well..." He chuckles. "I can't say I am all that interested in knowing what it is that distracted you."

Hubert flushes red. "Mr. P - Paradine - "

"No matter. Where is your companion, by the way?" The older man raises both eyebrows. "I was told that she returned with you and was in good health, but I haven't seen her once. Did she return to Fendel already?"

"... yes, sir. She did."

"Hmm. That's unfortunate. I was hoping to discuss these diagrams with her - particularly the water purification system she sketched." Paradine nods at the pad of paper. "It's quite a complex piece of machinery, and not even our brightest engineers are able to decipher the inner workings. Do you think she would be willing to return for a few days?"

Hubert isn't interested in discussing this topic, lest he say something stupid or hint at the reason that Pascal is already gone, so he merely presses his lips tight together and nods. The president studies him closely for a moment, as if there is something he would like to say, but then he seems to change his mind. "Well, then, I will be certain to send a messenger to her upon my return. Or you may retrieve her yourself, if you are so inclined."

_Unfortunately, I doubt my attempt would do any good_ is what Hubert wants to say, but he instead stays silent and waits to be dismissed. Paradine releases him a few minutes later, and the lieutenant goes down the hall to his office with one hand pressed to his chest, wondering just how long it will take before the mere thought of Pascal causes him such pain.

* * *

After three weeks have passed since returning to Yu Liberte, Hubert receives a report from Dylan Paradine himself regarding the future of the islands. There's a handwritten note scrawled on the first page of the neatly typed document: "I thought you might like to know of our plans."

The report confirms all of Pascal's findings, stating that there are a total of seven islands off the southern coast of Strahta, which will henceforth be claimed by the nation and named "Sol Islands." The central island is given several pages of text, and Paradine's intention seems to be to preserve the ancient research laboratory - but there's also mention of allowing the nation of Amarcia to use it as they please, and Paradine acknowledges, quite clearly, that the land truly belongs to their ancestors, not Strahta.

The rest of the written report contains plans that are surprisingly extensive. Paradine and his council have decided, he reads, to develop the islands. The smallest of the seven isles is set aside to be turned into a beach resort - a tourist attraction and a source of income, which Hubert thinks is a smart decision. Four of the others are to be developed to hold housing for both permanent and seasonal residents, and a few pages in the report are dedicated to explaining how the structures will be built solidly away from the sandy, unstable beaches, but without destroying the trees that are clustered in the center of each isle. Plans to establish regular transportation to and from Yu Liberte and each island via boat are discussed, as well.

That leaves only one island, and when Hubert flips to the last few pages, he pauses and purses his lips. The southernmost island - _their_ island, he notes - is to be used as the headquarters for a new branch of the Strahtan military, and will house not only the military employees but also researchers and developers who will work on the construction of the islands and the development of the housing and resort. There's also mention of a dedicated research group who will attempt to replicate the Amarcian studies from the central isle in a newly built laboratory. He frowns slightly at the brief mention of the need for Pascal's broken ship to be hauled away, wondering what will become of his memories of the time they spent there, all that was said and done -

"No matter," he says aloud, ending that train of thought before it can proceed any further. He closes the report and pushes it aside, to the very edge of his desk, and tries to go back to his work. He has a lot to do and no time to spend thinking of the islands, neither their past or their future. He isn't involved and doesn't _want_ to be involved, not at all.

* * *

At the start of the fourth week, Hubert hears a rumor that Pascal's presence was requested by Paradine himself in Yu Liberte - and that she refused, even when a military convoy was sent to the enclave to retrieve her. "She said no," he overhears a soldier murmuring to another, "because she didn't want to see a certain someone. I wonder who_ that_ could be?"

The lieutenant goes home that evening angry and tired and with a heart full of pain. He eats dinner with his father in silence, wondering if this is how it has to be - if this is how their relationship will end, with the two of them avoiding each other, going their separate ways as if nothing has ever happened between them. He's wondered many times over the last month if this is truly the end, but he's convinced himself that she deserves better than him, better than someone who is willing to allow his thoughts and feelings to be manipulated by the seeds of doubt planted by another.

He's come to realize that Fourier is at least partially at fault for this - but he can't blame her, not entirely. _He_ overreacted, said things he didn't mean, and now he will never have a chance to make up for it.

He doesn't realize he's frowning until Garrett calls him out on it. "Hubert, why is it that you are are always wearing such a miserable expression at the dinner table as of late?"

"... my apologies," the younger man murmurs, and clears his throat, lifting his head. His plate is nearly cleared, but he'd gotten distracted by his thoughts again, and now he isn't hungry at all. "I am merely considering my current workload. You have heard about the plans for the Sol Islands, correct?"

Garrett gives him a skeptical look. "Am I to believe that you have been making such faces over those _plans_? Why does it concern you? I would have thought that you would be completely uninterested in the development of the place that gave you such unpleasant memories."

"Unpleasant memories?"

"I've heard people talking about that Amarcian friend of yours. They say she was asked to come explain her research to the president and refused. Why would she refuse him?" He places his fork on the table, pushing his glasses up on his nose with two fingers. "That is simply poor form. But it also tells me _exactly_ what kind of person she is, thinking only of herself and not of the good of the people. Do you suppose she is hiding something from Mr. Paradine?"

"Pascal is not hiding anything," Hubert says quickly, with a frown. "And you are wrong about the kind of person she is. She provided Mr. Paradine with all of her findings from our time on the islands. It is not _her_ fault that our engineers cannot decipher the way in which the ancient Amarcian systems work."

"Why are you defending_ her_?" Garrett raises an eyebrow. "She certainly seemed eager to be away from you after your return, and you haven't spoken of her once since her departure from Yu Liberte. In the past it seemed as if she was all you could talk about."

"I am defending her because you know little to nothing about her, Father." The last word is spoken harshly, almost ironically, and it's a struggle for Hubert to bite back his anger. "Despite what has happened between us, I have a great deal of respect for her. She is a brilliant individual, and certainly more selfless than anyone _else_ I am acquainted with. She went to the islands because she was thinking of the good of _our_ nation, and because she is a tireless researcher."

"You speak of this woman as if you have feelings for her."

"And what does it matter if I do?" He grits his teeth, watching an expression of surprise appear on his father's face. "Don't worry," he continues, "you have no reason to be concerned. I _had_ asked for her hand in marriage, but our engagement was broken upon our return, before I could deliver the happy news to even one person. So as it stands right now, Father, my feelings are irrelevant."

"You fool." Garrett folds his arms stiffly together. "I am glad to hear your engagement is broken. Why would you even consider marrying an _Amarcian_? She has no heritage, no political connections, and no wealth to offer you. Her appearance is always disheveled and her way of speaking is worse than the lower class. You would be publicly shamed for daring to wed such a misfit."

"Do not speak of Pascal that way."

"Does the truth offend you, Hubert?"

"Do _not_," the lieutenant repeats again, raising his voice, "speak of her that way. I said our engagement had been broken, _not_ that I was willing to agree with your assessment of her character. You know _nothing_ of her. She has far more to offer than the factors that _you_ consider important, and before I broke our engagement by acting like a fool, I was a happier man than I had ever been before - even _without_ wealth or political connections."

"You sound as if you regret your actions." Garrett rolls his eyes. "I do hope you are not considering proposing to her again. I will have you know that I will_ not_ see you ruin my family name by marrying someone of her standing."

"And _I_ will have you know that I do not_ care_ for your family name, nor do I care in the slightest for your opinion!"

"H - _Hubert!_"

The younger man balls his hands into fists, glaring hard at his father from his place across the long dining room table. "You," he begins, and suddenly he is powerless to stop the flow of words that escape his mouth, "have spent ten years dictating the direction of my life. I was forced into the academy, forced into the military, forced to slave away and work my fingers to the bone for my promotion to lieutenant, and you have been attempting to force a wife on me at least once each month since I turned eighteen. Each time that you parade one of those privileged and utterly spoiled women into our sitting room and introduce them to me, I tell you in no unclear terms that I do not desire to marry someone that I have not chosen _myself_."

Garrett attempts to interrupt. "I have done all of these things - "

"For my own good?" Hubert finishes, and it's a protest that he knows well. "Of course. _Everything_ that you do is for my own good. But I know full well why you _actually_ do these things, and it is for the advancement of _your_ career, of _your_ name - not mine. I am willing to tolerate many things, Father, but I will not tolerate you speaking ill of the woman I love. I may have broken our engagement, and I may have hurt her badly, but if she were to somehow return to me and forgive me for acting like an incredible _ass_ to her, I would most_ certainly_ propose to her again."

The older man looks furious, but doesn't interrupt. Hubert continues, his voice raising slightly as he speaks, reflecting the passion behind his words. "You have dictated the outcome of my entire life so far, Father, and I have not spoken up even once. I was fearful of objecting, of telling you to give me the power to make my own decisions, but no longer. I may have been fearful before, but I will _not_ allow you to dictate the way that _this_ will be done. If Pascal were to return to my side again, the whole _world_ could speak ill of me and I would not care. You could disown me if you pleased, strip the Oswell name away from me, remove my wealth and status, and I would not mind in the slightest. The only thing I have _ever_ wanted for myself, the only thing that has ever inspired me to stand up for myself, the only person who has ever given me a reason to stop being so _afraid_ of this world, is _her_. And if she ever forgives me for what I have done, you will certainly _not_ take her away from me. And if you do not believe me, I would _dare_ you to so much as_ try_."

"How _dare_ you - "

"For once, Father," he says, standing, "I wish you would just be _quiet_." He pushes back his chair and leaves the table without another room, going to his room and slamming the door. He bolts the lock and sinks down onto the edge of his bed, covering his eyes with his hands and releasing a long sigh. His heart is beating fast, and he's all but certain that he is going to be reprimanded in an absolutely horrifying way for daring to speak so inappropriately, but he doesn't care.

"I wish you were here," he says out loud, and he means it, because this newly found bravery means nothing without the woman who has inspired it by his side. He misses her desperately - he really can't pretend otherwise - and the memories he has of holding her in his arms and telling her he loves her just aren't enough.

* * *

Five weeks after his rescue, Hubert attends an afternoon ceremony held in Yu Liberte to officially announce the acquisition of the islands for the nation of Strahta. The city square is crowded, with hundreds of residents crowded around a podium where Dylan Paradine is preparing to speak, and just before he begins his speech Hubert feels a gentle tug on one of his sleeves. He looks down and sees a pretty, slender Amarcian with violet-tipped hair and bright olive eyes, and it takes him longer than it should to recognize her. "Poisson - ?!"

"Hello, Hubert. Long time no see." She smiles. "I thought I might find you here."

"What are you...?"

"I volunteered to come to Strahta as the Amarcian representative. Mr. Paradine has been kind enough to discuss preserving the laboratory discovered by you and Pascal so that we may learn about the research performed by our ancestors. I have already been to the islands to see the laboratory myself, as well as to assist with the removal of Pascal's ship." She, pauses as she hears Paradine greet the crowd, then reaches up to gently pat the lieutenant's arm, lowering her voice. "I do not mean to pry, but... how are you getting on since Pascal left?"

He grimaces. Of course she knows what happened. The entire_ enclave_ probably knows. "I am fine," he answers, avoiding her gaze. "Have you spoken to her recently?"

"Last week. She seemed much more like herself than before. When she first returned to the enclave, she..." Poisson pauses, pursing her lips, and then she shakes her head. "Perhaps this isn't the time or place to discuss such things. We should be listening to Mr. Paradine."

Hubert thinks that this is a good idea. They both turn their attention to the podium, where the president is finishing his greeting and beginning to discuss the reason for the public announcement. The majority of his ten minute speech covers information that Hubert is already familiar with; Paradine is careful not to mention by name who discovered the islands, or how the discovery was made, but he does reference the research being conducted by "an Amarcian representative from Fendel and a member of our very own military."

What he does learn from Paradine's speech is that the islands have been individually named. The body at the center of the Sol Isles is to be dubbed Amarcia Isle, "lest we forget who owned this land in ancient times," as he explains. The remaining six islands are to be called Thetis, Pontis, Galathea, Nereus, Scylla, and Thalassa. It's all very odd, Hubert thinks - but then Poisson murmurs that the island on which he'd been stranded - now Thetis - was named for a goddess who married a mortal. He clenches his teeth tight together and pretends that the remark doesn't bother him, but he knows what she's getting at and wonders who he should blame for such a cruel joke.

Paradine announces that the establishment of the new military force will take place within the next three weeks, and that construction on Thetis of the new base and laboratory is expected to begin before the month has ended. Thalassa's beach resort is scheduled to be developed and opened within three months, and the other four islands will have their housing built and available for purchase before the end of the year. These announcements send excited murmurs through the crowd, and Hubert hears several people around him announce that they're going to move to the islands as soon as possible. "It will be just like living in paradise!" someone remarks.

The gathering ends with thunderous applause from all in attendance, and as the crowd begins to dissipate, Poisson folds her hands together behind her back and smiles kindly up at the lieutenant by her side. "While I was visiting the islands with a few of your soldiers," she begins, "I heard it suggested more than once that you would be a rather appropriate leader for the new military force that is to be established there."

This actually catches Hubert off guard. "Me?"

"Why not? Well, I suppose it was just idle talk from a few of the men. But they spoke very highly of you, and some even seemed familiar with Pascal." She rocks back on her heels, laughing ever-so-softly. "If you are tired of the way your life is proceeding here, perhaps it might be time for you to consider a change in scenery. _I_ certainly wouldn't turn down the opportunity to live out my life on a beautiful island in the middle of the sea."

"I see," he says, and gives a slow nod. "Thank you for the suggestion. I hadn't considered it."

"I am happy to help," she responds, and presses a hand gently to his arm before turning to walk away through the crowd. "Take care, Hubert," she calls over one shoulder, giving a little wave, and as she goes he can't help but marvel at just how different every Amarcian is - and how easy it was to fall in love with one that he's still missing dearly.

He's not happy with his life, with the way things are going and how he's found himself alone. But maybe Poisson has suggested something that would actually be good for him. He looks up at the sky, thinking, and then he spins on his heel and starts off in the direction of the presidential palace, wondering if he'll have any time to speak to Paradine before the day is over.

* * *

At the six week mark there's a knock on his office door and a visitor is announced, a "Miss Fourier from Amarcia." Hubert grits his teeth and nearly snaps his pen in half but allows her entry, and when Fourier settles into the empty seat in front of his desk he's quick to speak. "If you have not come here to apologize," he begins, "I will ask you to make your visit very brief."

"Hm." The Amarcian crosses her legs, exhaling loudly, and shakes her head. "I had planned to ask you if Pascal was with you, but based on the way you've reacted to my presence, I will wager that the answer is no."

"... why would Pascal be with me?" He isn't sure whether he should be mad or worried or both. "Your interference caused us to separate - "

"I _know_ that," she interrupts, huffing, "but I had thought she might have come here."

"Why?"

"Because she left."

"She_ left_?"

"Last week. She vanished in the middle of the night. She said nothing to me about traveling, and left no note in her room or with anyone else in the enclave. I searched around the area for her, but no one has seen her." Her voice softens slightly. "I wasn't worried, at first, but after a few days without contact, I thought it would be best to check with you."

Hubert puts down his pen and pushes aside the document he's been reading. "Where might she have gone?" he asks.

"I honestly don't know. When that girl gets an idea in her head, there's not a thing I can do to stop her..." Fourier sighs, lifting a hand to her forehead, and there's a short pause before she speaks again. "For the first two weeks that we were back in the enclave, she actually refused to speak to me. All she did was sit in her room and sulk or cry. I don't even think she ate for a few days. When I tried to reason with her, she screamed at me, and when Malik visited and attempted to console her, she screamed at him, too."

"Can you blame her for doing such a thing?" He frowns. "You know exactly why the two of us are unhappy as we are. I can hardly fault her for running away."

"I know," the Amarcian returns, quietly, and the response surprises Hubert so much that he straightens in his chair and stares at her. "Perhaps I... perhaps part of me did intend to apologize to you."

He swallows. "Is that so?"

"Pascal is the only family I have, Hubert. I raised her practically on my own. She and I have a volatile relationship, certainly, but I care immensely for her. When I spoke up, it was because I was convinced that it was for your own good, and for hers as well." She bows her head, pale hair obscuring her eyes. "But perhaps I... acted selfishly. Perhaps I was scared of being left alone. And I spent quite a bit of time trying to convince myself that what I had done was right, but after listening to the sound of her crying through the wall for days on end, I..." She sighs. "She had every right to be upset with me. And I suppose that you do as well."

"I fully understand your concerns." He folds his hands together. "But as of right now, I - I would still marry her, if I were to be given the opportunity." He looks away, making his best attempt to keep his voice steady. "I love her. I can love no other. I do not deserve her, but if she was somehow able to overlook that... if she was willing to forgive me for my misgivings, I would gladly spend the rest of my life with her."

"I wouldn't stop you." Fourier lifts her head. "After all, I do want my sister to be happy. As foolish as she acts sometimes..." She smiles ever-so-slightly. "... truthfully, she was not the foolish one this time. The sound of her misery was much more painful than I suspected it would be. If I had any doubts about the sincerity of her feelings for you, they were gone within the first evening."

Hubert turns his attention back to her, then stares at his hands, trying to decide what to say. There's a long pause before he speaks again. "Do you know where she might have gone?"

"No." The Amarcian sighs. "She's always been the type to go wandering off on a whim, and usually without telling me where she is going and how long she'll be out, but I didn't foresee this. I thought she was finally starting to come around. Poisson came and talked to her, a few times, which seemed to help... considering those two are more like sisters than _we_ are." She snorts at this remark. "But then Poisson said something the islands - presumably about traveling to Strahta to meet with your president on behalf of the enclave - and Pascal was upset all over again. Poisson offered to bring her along, but she declined."

"I see."

"I had really hoped to find her here. I thought that she might go running back to you. But..." She shakes her head, and for the first time Hubert sees what he thinks is genuine concern on her face; the expression doesn't suit her, maybe because he's so used to seeing her either frowning or snapping haughtily at someone, but it's unsettling all the same and makes him worry. "Well, I suppose I'll just have to keep searching. I have Malik helping as well. For all his ridiculousness, he certainly does care very strongly for my sister, and I do appreciate that."

"Captain Malik is a good man." The lieutenant forces a slight smile. "He cares for you, too."

"As if that is any of your business." Fourier tosses her hair over one shoulder. "But that does remind me. I'll leave this with you." She reaches around and retrieves a small bag from one of her shoulders, opening it and retrieving a small device that is passed - almost thrust, actually - into his hands. "A recent development," she says, one corner of her mouth rising in a half-smile. "Though not of my sister's, for once."

"What is it?"

"A communicator." The device in Hubert's hands is circular and smooth, made out of some kind of plastic, with a bright screen and a keyboard arranged neatly below. "Since Pascal so_ thoughtfully_ destroyed one half of the first pair that Poisson developed," Fourier continues, with a loud exhale, "I took it upon myself to create a new set."

"She destroyed - ?"

"Hmm. I wasn't sure if you'd attempted to send her any kind of communication or not. Yes, she smashed her communicator as soon as she discovered it in her room. She made some kind of comment about how she'd promised you she would." She rolls her eyes, not noticing the way Hubert grimaces in response to her comment. "I made absolutely certain to keep _this_ set away from her. Unlike Poisson's, this is able to be used by more than two people - that is, it is a multi-channel device. Right now there are three receivers: the one in your hands, mine, and Malik's. We will be able to communicate with one another easily, and without any major delay in message delivery, considering the new system uses radio waves to - " She stops abruptly and waves a hand at him. "Never mind. I'm certain you've received a lifetime of technical information from Pascal. The point is, assuming we continue to search for my sister, we will be able to relay messages regarding the situation to the group."

"I understand." He closes his hands over the device. "Thank you."

"Of course." She ties her bag again and shoulders it, then stands, releasing a loud, exaggerated sigh. "If you do happen to find my sister, I'll ask you to wait until _after_ you've notified me of her safety before you call her a spectacular moron. Which she_ is_, of course, and she_ deserves_ to know that. But she..." Fourier looks away, her voice softening. "She deserves to be happy, too. And if the two of you can put aside your misgivings, and forgive me for interfering in what might have otherwise been the happiest time of your lives..."

"I forgive you." The words come easily, so easily that they even surprise him, and when Fourier's eyes widen in surprise, Hubert is quick to speak again. "But," he adds, "I do not blame you for what happened - not entirely. I judged her too harshly. It was difficult for me to come to terms with the fact that my feelings for her were not always returned, and that she might have once considered me nothing more than a... last resort." He sighs, turning the communicator over in his hands. "But I was unkind to her, despite claiming to have such strong feelings for her. I lost sight of what was important - the present - and that was what drove us apart."

"You should tell her this. Not me. So when you find her, _tell her_." Fourier nods and turns to leave, but she's halfway to the door when she stops, looking over her shoulder at him. She's quiet and still, examining him almost critically, and when she speaks she sounds surprised, as if she's just realized something for the first time. "You do love her, don't you?" she asks.

"More than anything else in the world," he answers, and this time he doesn't bother to explain, because it's really all he needs to say. And for the rest of the day he finds it hard to get anything done, because he's worried about her, wants to know where she's gone and why - and wants more than anything to be the one to find her so he can wrap his arms around her and hold her tight and promise that he will never let her go again.

_I miss you_, he thinks to himself, over and over, and wishes he had some way of telling her that himself._ I miss you and I love you. Please come home._

* * *

A few days later, at the start of the seventh week, Hubert awakes in the middle of the night to a beeping noise. He doesn't come out of his slumber easily, and at first he mutters under his breath and swats at the source of the sound - but he slowly realizes that he doesn't know what the source of the sound_ is._ He sits up in bed and fumbles for his glasses, and that's when he realizes that it's the communicator, sitting on his nightstand, a tiny red light flashing on the front and the screen lit up, waiting for him.

He rubs at his eyes until they focus, and when they do, he draws in a sharp, sudden breath. There are messages on the screen - important ones - and he pokes at the communicator's buttons and keyboard until he finds a way to scroll up and down, reading everything that has been said so far. It's Malik and Fourier, speaking rapidly to one another, and the very first line -

_I found her._

- sends a shiver of relief through him. He bends over the screen and continues to read:

_How is she? And where WAS she?_

_Not well. She was in Velanik. I took her to the hospital in Zavhert and they admitted her. I don't think she's been eating well, and she's probably dehydrated again. I told her that we were all worried and she told me to leave her alone. I'm waiting to get back into her room right now, the doctor shoved me out when she started throwing up and nurses are in there with him trying to calm her down._

_Moron. I knew she couldn't have gone far._

_She wouldn't tell me where she was planning on going. I'm just glad it wasn't further away._

Hubert releases a shaky breath, gripping the communicator tight between his hands. Relief is still flowing through him, relaxing him, but he is wide awake now and has no hope of returning to bed. He places the device on his mattress and stands, moving in the dark until he finds a robe hanging from a hook on the back of his door, and slips it on. The communicator beeps again just as he's putting on slippers, and he returns to his bed to read the message that appears on the screen, presumably from Malik: _Hubert, are you with us?_

He pecks out a few characters, and the keyboard is unfamiliar beneath his fingers, but he perseveres until he's able to compose and send a message that is free of errors. _Yes. Thank you for notifying me._

Malik's response comes quickly, with another beep of the device. _I know it's late. Sorry for disturbing you._

_You have no need to apologize_, he returns, still typing slowly._ I am grateful for her safety._

The communicator beeps again almost right away, and Hubert raises an eyebrow at the speed with which Fourier presumably types. _How long will she need to stay in the hospital? Is she really that ill? Should I come visit, or will that result in another bout of screaming and accusatory remarks about my intentions to ruin her life?_

There's a full five minutes before Malik's reply comes. By the time another beep sounds in his quiet room, Hubert has moved to stand in front of one of his windows, looking out on the night and waiting patiently for the older man's response. _They just let me back in. The doctor said it's just a precaution, because she's dehydrated and hasn't been eating well, if she's been eating at all. She'll be out in a few days, if that. And she says she's too tired to scream at anyone right now._

Hubert looks at the communicator, then outside again, and then back to the device - and before he realizes what he is doing he's beginning to type. _Please tell her that I wish to see her,_ he sends._ I can be in Zavhert by the afternoon._

Malik's response is almost instantaneous. _You would come all the way here?_

_If she would have me_, he sends, and with that he leaves his room and walks quietly in the direction of the door that leads into the small garden area behind the manor. He goes out into the grass and sits down on the path, wrapping his robe around him and closing his eyes, placing the communicator in his lap and simply waiting. The night is warm and pleasant, and although he thinks it is nearly four in the morning he is calm and composed and not at all tired. He thinks that something is changing within him - that he is getting better, coming to terms with his faults and his fears. Even if Pascal decides that she doesn't want to see him again -

The communicator beeps and he opens his eyes, reading Malik's response. _She's really not feeling well right now. But I relayed your message. She didn't say no, but she didn't say yes, either._

_What?_ he sends back, confused.

He doesn't have to wait long for an explanation: Malik sends his own reply quickly, and the words that appear on the screen make Hubert cringe. _"He doesn't need to do that" were her exact words, and then she started crying. I think this is still a... sensitive subject._

The communicator suddenly beeps again, and it's Fourier this time, asking questions of her own. _Why did she run away? Did she know we were searching for her?_

Another long five minutes pass before Malik sends another message, drawing Hubert out of his thoughts. _I really don't think she's in the mood for questions. She just got finished being sick again. The nurses are fawning over her like she's some kind of little girl and she's not having any of it._ The lieutenant cringes again when he finishes reading the text on the screen; suddenly the device beeps again and a new message appears, another one from Malik: _But just now she sat up and said she felt better and was hungry for a banana, which I guess is a good sign._

Hubert manages a slight smile. He waits for a moment, wondering if Fourier will say anything else, but the night is quiet and still around him. He finally starts typing out a message, and he corrects his wording several times as he strings the words together._ Captain Malik, I realize that the timing is poor, but if you could please tell her that I -_ He pauses, his fingers hovering over the keys, but then he frowns and nods and finishes his sentence, because he has nothing left to lose and he doesn't care who knows it. _- that I love her, and that I will wait for her, I would appreciate it._

The device is quiet. He sits still, breathing in and out, and after a few minutes pass he rises to his feet and begins to pace slowly around the garden. He wants to see her -_ needs_ to see her. He needs to make things right again, needs to tell her himself that he loves her. If he has even one more chance to make this work, he must take it. He must get over his fears and seize happiness with his own hands - and despite their mistakes and their misgivings and their clumsy, stupid attempts at love, he knows that Pascal is his happiness, and that he is hers. They need to be together. It may not be destiny or fate, but it is what he wants, and god forbid he give up on something he's wanted and waited for - the one thing in his life that he's decided on his own to have.

By the time the communicator chirps at him with a new message, it's twenty minutes later and Hubert has gone inside and is sitting on the edge of his bed trying not to doze off. He rubs his eyes beneath his glasses and lifts the device close to his face, reading quickly:_ I'll tell her. She's crying again, so maybe in the morning. I know it's none of my business, but if you two don't work this out pretty soon, I'm going to work it out for you. Interpret that as you will._

_Thank you_, he sends back, and a chuckle escapes him when he rereads Malik's final remark. He realizes it's the first time in almost two months that he's laughed, but he's too tired to do anything more than note it with a short nod. He takes off his glasses and puts the communicator back on his nightstand, and when he climbs back into bed he falls sound asleep again, and for the first time in almost two months he doesn't have bad dreams, either.

* * *

When the morning comes, it's sunny and warm and Hubert is in what he considers a good mood. He is already bathed and halfway through dressing before he notices a small light blinking on the top of the device on his nightstand. He picks it up and squints at the text on the screen - and then almost drops the communicator, a gasp escaping from his mouth. Though the device denotes the message as coming from Malik, it's not from him - but from someone _else_, someone else who had apparently taken it from him and sent a long block of text only a few minutes prior -

_I guess everybody can see this but it doesn't really matter. Fourier, I ran away because I wanted to see where I would end up, if I just forgot about everything and wandered around the world again. I know I already told you this a couple times, but you're the one who hurt me the worst, and I was having a really hard time being around you. You seemed so happy with yourself, you know? Like it made you feel good to put those thoughts in our heads and break us up. I know you're not like that, and I think you were just scared of being alone. And I think you were worried that I'd end up hurting somebody without realizing it again, like I kept hurting you. But this was supposed to be different._

_Hu, I saw what you said. Captain didn't tell me, but he didn't have to. Listen, sometimes you were mean to me and I know you didn't do it on purpose. I know you acted that way because you were trying to make it seem like you didn't care one way or the other what happened to us. But I know you better than that. I know how you feel. And I know that being away from you hurts really, really bad, and that's because I feel the same way. I can't just stop it, it's not some switch I can flip on and off again. Love is complicated and stupid and it makes people say and do horrible things, but it's why I can't stop thinking about you and why I want to see you again._

_We've all done a lot of really dumb things lately. Maybe it's as simple as just stopping. Maybe we can forget about the things we said that we didn't mean, or the thoughts we had that aren't true anymore, and just move forward. I don't wanna live my life regretting anything, because then I might as well not be alive at all. So when I get out of this stupid hospital bed, I'm going to make things right again. I don't know how, but I will._

Hubert gapes at the screen, and his fingers hover over the keyboard; he knows he should respond, but he doesn't know what to say, how to even begin. His heart is lighter and is beating fast, and he feels better, more sure of the fact that they are going to work this out after all, that they can forgive each other and start over again -

The communicator beeps again, and this time the message is short and simple and honest, and when he sees it he smiles and sits down hard on the floor because he knows his legs are going to give out if he doesn't.

_And I love you too, Hu. I said you were never gonna be able to get rid of me, and I mean it._

* * *

Two days later, rumors start circulating that Hubert Oswell was seen at a jeweler's shop inquiring about engagement rings. When Garrett confronts him to ask what he thinks he's doing, his son feigns innocence and muses that people will say anything for attention these days. And when his father gives him an angry look of disbelief and storms off, Hubert reaches into his jacket and touches the small velvet box there with his fingertips, wondering how long he's going to have to wait.

* * *

Exactly eight weeks to the day since being rescued from the islands, Hubert receives a message on his communicator from Fourier at seven in the morning, just as he finishes dressing for work.

_She's in the enclave._

He wonders again just how long he's going to wait, but he thinks it doesn't matter now. He looks at himself in the mirror over his dresser and straightens his collar and pushes up his glasses, and when he's satisfied with his appearance he leaves his room, politely declining his father's offer of breakfast in favor of making his way to the presidential palace for an early meeting - an important meeting about his future, and where his military career will take him.

Even without Pascal, today is the first day of the rest of Hubert's life. And he'll wait for her as long as he has to - forever, if she wishes - because his life just mean anything if she isn't in it, and hers won't be worth it if he's not around.


	9. islands in the sea

_we'll get back up  
__even if this takes forever_  
- Futures, "Islands in the Sea"

* * *

**islands in the sea**  
chapter nine - _islands in the sea  
_

* * *

Nine weeks after leaving Yu Liberte to journey to the islands in the middle of the Strahtan sea, Hubert Oswell is preparing to depart for them again.

He stands in Dylan Paradine's office, in front of the president's desk, his hands folded tight together behind his back. Paradine sits at his desk, bent over a sheet of paper that he is reading closely. He is silent for a while, studying the document, and then he lifts his head, chuckling as he reaches for a nearby pen. "I don't know how you managed to talk me into this, Hubert," he says, signing the bottom of the sheet with a flourish, "but I feel confident that the Sol Islands will be in good hands from this moment forward."

"Thank you, sir."

"There's no need to thank me. If anything, I should be thanking you. Here - your official orders." Paradine beckons him close, slipping the signed document into a folder that is stamped with an official insignia of the Strahtan military. When Hubert approaches he is handed the slim folder, and upon accepting it he bows low, gripping it tight in both hands. "You know as well as I do," the president continues, "that Yu Liberte will feel your loss very heavily. I am all but certain that I will hear a great number of complaints from those who consider my actions to be the exact opposite of what this nation needs and desires."

"I understand that, sir." The blue-haired man straightens, fixing his eyes on Paradine's. "And I apologize for any trouble that my request has caused you, or any distress that my transfer to the Sol Islands may bring to others. I know that I am well liked here, and I appreciate that. But you are more than welcome to tell anyone who might inquire that this transfer was entirely my idea, and not yours. I would not ask you to keep such a thing secret from anyone."

"Except from your father, of course."

"I thought you might guess that I hadn't told him the whole truth. But he will learn it eventually." Hubert smiles ever-so-slightly. "And I am sure that he will be infuriated by it. But I care little for his opinion, to be completely honest. This is the direction that I have decided on for myself, and I will not be swayed."

Paradine returns Hubert's smile, chuckling again. "In all of the years that I've known you, not once have I heard you say anything like that. You've really come into your own, haven't you?"

The lieutenant swallows, hoping he hasn't stepped out of line. "Someone very important to me told me that life is not worth living if we have regrets. I have had more than enough regrets for one lifetime. Now I must attempt to move forward."

"I see." The room is silent for a moment, and then the president nods once, folding his hands together. "Well, Hubert, I wish you the best of luck. You will find more information in the documents that I have just given you, but nothing in them should be a surprise. As we have already discussed, I am requesting monthly reports on the status of the development, as well as your monster eradication activities both in Strahta and elsewhere, when you are called upon to assist the other nations. Should you decide to come in person for your reports, the city of Yu Liberte will always welcome you with open arms."

"Thank you, sir." Hubert bows again. "I do not intend to be a stranger to this city. But I - "

"One more thing." Paradine smiles wide and leans forward at his desk, nodding at the younger man. "As much as I would like to keep from interfering with the direction of your life, I am asking that you think of this move as a promotion."

"... a promotion?"

"Indeed," he responds. "After all, these operations require a leader, and ultimately, I would be a fool not to choose the one person suited for the job. What do you say, Colonel Oswell?"

"Co - Co - Colonel - " Hubert sputters for a moment, then manages to collect himself, snapping his heels together and hurriedly tucking the folder under one arm before saluting. "Yes, sir! Thank you! Thank you very much, sir, I - thank you!"

Paradine laughs outright now, waving a hand at him. "That's more than enough gratitude for today. Hurry and finish cleaning out your office. Your replacement is chomping at the bit to take over your desk, and you have a ship to catch."

"Y - yes, sir!"

"Take care of yourself, Hubert."

"I will," Hubert promises, and salutes once more before turning and rushing out of the room. He waits until he's a safe distance away from the president's office to release a long, shaky breath, leaning back against the wall of the hallway as he waits for his heartbeat to stop drumming in his ears. "Colonel," he murmurs to himself, and can't help but laugh, shaking his head. A colonel at age twenty - who might have guessed that_ this_ would be the direction his life would take?

Effective today, he is to become the director of military and development operations for the Sol Islands. He had approached Paradine two weeks earlier with the suggestion - and initially the president had wanted to hear none of it, insisting that Hubert was a fine lieutenant and that the city of Yu Liberte both wanted and needed him. But as the younger man had gone on to explain, what _he_ wanted and needed ultimately had to be more important. "I realize that it is unlike me to disagree with you, sir," he'd said, watching Paradine's eyes grow wide with surprise, "but I want to be involved with the future of this country. If I am to remain as part of Strahta, I must be doing more than signing papers and directing troops. I have been content with the direction of my life up until this point, but now I must follow a different path."

Paradine had been shocked, of course, but also impressed. After a few days of deliberation he'd agreed: Hubert was one of the only people fit to take on the role of leader, and one of very few people who the president trusted. Despite his youth, he was reliable, and ultimately had more knowledge of the islands than others might. "I will agree to your proposal," Paradine had said, "because I know you, of all people, want what is best for our nation. And if this is what is best for you, as well, it would be wrong to say no."

Hubert recalls this exchange with a broad smile, and he exhales again, glad no one is in the area to see him grinning like some kind of fool. "That is enough merriment for one day," he says out loud, and starts down the hall to return to his office. He still has a few things to do before he leaves for the islands - a box of personal belongings to collect from his office, and one final check at the Oswell manor to ensure that his furniture and clothing have all been safely picked up and boarded on the cargo ship. He will be departing on a second ship in the late afternoon, to arrive on Thetis the next morning, and he muses to himself that an Amarcian aircraft would really be quite useful (and much faster) for traveling back and forth. He wonders, as he reaches his office door and swings it open, if Fourier would be able to teach him to fly -

- and his thoughts come screeching to a halt when he closes the door to his office and looks across the room to his desk. Someone is waiting there - a someone with white and red hair and bright amber eyes. She sits in his chair with her feet propped up on the desk, and he notices immediately that she's dressed nicely, in a sleeveless white sundress with a wide yellow belt and white sandals. She's spinning a daisy around in her fingers, and even when Hubert gasps and drops his folder she doesn't look up, only makes a comment with a smile: "You've been busy, huh?"

"P - _Pascal_ - !"

"Sure is empty in here." She plucks a petal from the daisy and observes it carefully before allowing it to flutter out of her fingers to the floor, and after a pause she finally turns her head, examining him just as closely as she had the flower. Hubert notices that she's a little more slender than before, that she's grown out her hair since then, and he's struck by how breathtakingly pretty she is - he thinks that he forgot, somehow, just how much he loved the mere sight of her face, her smile, and the sound of her voice - "Are you going somewhere?" she asks.

"... yes." He bends to pick up his folder, gathering together the sheets that have slipped out and tucking them carefully inside again. "I just received new assignments. A - a transfer. And a promotion."

"A promotion, huh?" She tosses the flower in her hand to the desk, uncrossing her legs at the ankle and lowering them from where they had been pressed against the edge of his desk. "To what?"

"Colonel."

"Wow. That's a big one." She whistles. "You really are top dog now, aren't ya?"

"Pascal..." He takes a step forward, then another, and all he wants to do is run to her and grab her in his arms and hold her tight. He wants to fumble in his pockets until he finds the ring he bought her, even without knowing that she would be coming back at all; he feels heat behind his eyes and thinks that he might cry, and he doesn't care, he just doesn't _care_. He is happy to see her, and he wants so badly to tell her that he loves her, that he has been a fool and that the only thing he wants in the world is her forgiveness -

"Can we..." When she speaks again, her voice is low, and he hears a trepidation in it that he doesn't like, one that kills every urge he has and strikes genuine fear into his heart. "... can we talk?"

"... of course." He composes himself, somehow, and walks to his desk. She begins to rise out of his chair but he shakes his head, gesturing for her to sit as he places the folder he is carrying down on the nearly empty surface. He can feel her watching him as he pulls a second chair over in front of the desk, and when he settles into it, he twines his fingers together in his lap only because he thinks that will keep them from shaking. "I will listen to whatever you have to say," he tells her. "Even if you have come here to call me a spectacular imbecile - "

"No," she cuts him off, with a soft laugh, and puts the flower in her hands down on top of the military-issued folder in front of her, "that's not why I'm here at all. If I really thought that, Hu, I never would have come back."

"I - "

"No," she repeats, with a shake of her head, "let me talk. Just... listen, okay?" He stills immediately, pressing his lips tight together, and she pauses for a moment as if to make sure he won't interrupt. "Alright," she begins, "I... honestly, this wasn't your fault. I mean, it wasn't_ just_ your fault. But it wasn't mine, either, and it wasn't Fourier's. We all kinda messed this whole thing up from start to finish." She takes a breath. "First of all, you have to know that I didn't plan on the ship crashing, or the engine failing, or anything like that. What actually happened is that I joked about it right after Fourier and I went out to see the islands for the first time. We both noticed that the main engine was acting wonky, and she got all scream-y and pissed off when she found out that the backup one was still dead. She yelled at me to fix them both, because otherwise we'd end up stranded on the island together, and I laughed and said that might not be a bad thing."

Hubert straightens in his chair, raising both eyebrows. Pascal seems to read his expression perfectly, and she nods in response. "Yeah. It was just a _joke_. And Fourier doesn't get my sense of humor sometimes - which is why later on, when I was dancing around talking about how awesome it would be to be marooned on an island in paradise with the guy I had a massive crush on, she put two and two together and decided I_ wanted_ the ship to crash."

He sighs, lifting a hand to rub his forehead, unable to keep from commenting on this. "That is not at all how she made your intentions out to be."

"I know. I mean, it didn't help that I was scribbling in my notebook - it's _not_ a diary, by the way - about stupid stuff later on, about how much I liked you and... yeah, stuff like that..." He catches the hint of a blush on her cheeks before she looks down at the daisy, picking it up by the stem again. "And it didn't help that I completely forgot about fixing the engine. I said probably a week before I came out to get you that if I didn't fix it, we'd end up stuck together, but then I totally blanked on the whole thing. I didn't tell you I knew about it after we crashed because I thought you'd be_ really_ mad."

"Probably so," he admits.

"Yeah. So there's that. The thing about settling for you though, Hu, I..." She cringes. "I can't take those words back. I did say that. It was a long time ago, way before I really understood how I was feeling about you or why. Fourier was tired of looking after me - I mean, I totally understand why, I'm a huge pain in the rear - and started talking about finding a husband who would take care of me. Your name came up and I said some things I really wish I hadn't, because... well, you know why. My sister's brain is like some kinda huge book... you say something once and she writes it down in her head and remembers it forever."

Hubert smiles, waiting for a moment, watching her spin the flower around between her fingers. "It doesn't matter," he says softly.

"Huh?" She lifts her head, blinking. "But you were so mad - "

"You said that life isn't worth living if you have any regrets." He leans forward, gently plucking the daisy from her hand. "That is the way I want to live. I want to do the things that make me happy, not those that others would like me to do. And that involves moving forward - not dwelling on the past, not regretting the things you have said or done." He shakes his head. "How you once felt about me, and even how I once felt about you, is irrelevant. What matters is how we feel now, in the present. What matters is how we want our lives to turn out. And I cannot waste a single day longer dwelling on what we have said or done."

She blinks again, apparently surprised. "Hu, do you... really mean that?"

"I do." He leans forward, reaching up to tuck the daisy through her hair, over one ear. She blushes again, and even his face warms, reminding him of just how long it's been since he's touched her. He presses his fingertips to her cheek, releasing the breath it feels like he's been holding for weeks, and he's about to shove the chair aside and drop to one knee and ask her to please forgive him, to please become his wife -

"There's something else," she says suddenly, avoiding his gaze, and he freezes. She sounds scared and he doesn't like it. He pulls his hand away, placing it back in his lap, and waits for her to speak. When she does, it's with a low, unsteady voice, something that is altogether unlike her - and it makes him feel just as nervous as he did when he first walked into his office and found her sitting in his chair. "There's something... something I didn't tell you the truth about. I didn't... mean to not tell you, but it happened, and... and you have to know before you say anything else."

Oh, no. He clasps his hands together, steeling himself against whatever it is she's going to say, reminding himself that he has missed her desperately and wants to be with her, that no matter what it is, he can't overreact again. "What is it?" he asks, as calmly as possible.

"There's..." She chews on her bottom lip for a moment, her attention shifting to her own hands, which she folds together on the top of his desk. "There's really no easy way to tell you this."

"Tell me - tell me what?" He leans forward. "Do you - "

"Promise me you won't get mad."

"I promise. Of _course_." He stares at her, wondering what this is all about and why she sounds so nervous - why Pascal, of all people, is sitting here in front of him cringing. It must be something horrible, something so bad that he can't even fathom it -

"Yeah. So I..." She fidgets, clearing her throat. "I found out something while I was in the hospital, and I didn't mention it, but I should have. I thought you were gonna be really upset, so I waited until I got here, and ... and yeah. So I guess I should tell you - "

This is driving him mad, and he can't understand why she is hesitating so damn much. "Pascal, _please_ - "

She lowers her head and shuts her eyes tight and practically shouts the news. "I'm - I'm gonna have a baby!"

Oh. That's why.

Wait. _What?_

He is calm for three seconds, composed and still, and then he grasps what she is saying and gasps so hard that he nearly suffocates. "You're - going to - ?!" he whispers, and then it hits him again, and he actually_ fully_ understands this time, and he stands up and knocks his chair over in the process. "I'm - you're - with my child - ?!"

"No, Hu, don't get mad, you _promised_ me - !"

"I am not mad, I - " The room spins around him and he groans, leaning forward to grab onto the edge of his desk. "... I believe I merely need to sit down."

"Aw, geez, I..." He hears a shuffling sound, followed by footsteps, and then there's a creak and a small yet steady hand on his shoulder, guiding him carefully back down into the chair that has been righted behind him. He sits with a sigh, reaching up to rub his forehead, and nearly a minute passes before the room stops spinning and he can open his eyes again. "Hey," he hears from beside him, and feels her hand gently rubbing his back, "are you... um... gonna be okay?"

"I will be fine."

"Good, 'cause I - I mean, I knew you weren't gonna take this well, after everything else, but - "

"I am not mad," he repeats, interrupting her. When he finally lifts his head and meets her gaze with his, she blushes bright, drawing her hand away from his back, but he catches her around the wrist and holds on tight. They look at each other, and in her eyes he sees the same kind of fear and uncertainty that he is feeling; he inhales deeply, then lets out his breath, and before he realizes what he is doing he smiles. "I hope this is the last surprise I will have today. My heart cannot take very much more of this."

"I'm really sorry - "

"Don't," he stops her, and before she can move away he reaches for her, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her close so fast that she tumbles rather clumsily into his lap. He can't bear to be apart from her any longer, not even for another second, and as soon as she rights herself he lifts his head and kisses her. He has missed this, oh heavens how he has _missed_ this, and the way she leans into him and kisses him right back tells him that he isn't the only one feeling this way. She smells lovely, like some sort of flower - he thinks he's weird for noticing, but he can't help it - and when her hair brushes his cheeks it feels softer than before, and - "Pascal," he says, abruptly, pulling away and quirking an eyebrow at her, "why are you dressed so - nicely?"

She looks irritated at the sudden loss of his mouth on hers, and for a moment he thinks she's going to lunge at him and knock them both out of the chair in the name of continuing their kisses, but then she straightens in his lap and smiles. "Fourier told me it'd be easier to deliver the news if you were happy to see me, and that I'd have a way better chance of getting back together with you if I didn't look like a - " She pauses, scratching her head. "... I think she said a "messy, overworked hooligan not fit to be a mother"?"

Hubert cringes. "Your sister is harsh, as usual."

"Yeah, but - Hu..." Her eyes meet his. "I... I'm glad that you're not yelling at me over this, but I mean... for this kind of thing to happen... we only ever did it once - "

"Twice," he corrects her, gently, and he has to bite back laughter when she reddens and turns her head away. "But I understand what you are trying to say. It was a risk we took, I suppose, despite not once considering it during those... times. And for the record..." He looks down at the place where she is curled in his lap, one of her legs beneath her and the other pressed along the length of one of his own, and lowers a hand carefully to her abdomen. She tenses as he runs his fingers across the front of her dress, and he doesn't feel anything different, but he doesn't have to, because he believes her words - she really wouldn't lie to him, after all, would she? "For the record," he begins again, softly, "you are as fit to be a mother as I am to be a father."

"What does that mean...?"

"We have much to learn." He lifts his eyes to hers, and all of a sudden he's shaking, because it's really sinking in now, that Pascal is here and isn't leaving, that there's something that binds them together now, something tiny and growing that will one day become his son or daughter - no, their son or daughter -

He remembers his transfer out of nowhere, and what it means for him, for _them_, and takes her hard by the shoulders. "How did you get here?"

"Um - well, Fourier brought me in her ship, and she's waiting outside - "

"Will she fly us somewhere, if I ask?"

She stares at him, as if he's just proposed something completely preposterous - and maybe he has, he isn't sure. "Well," she starts, slowly, "I guess she would..."

"Then - please - come with me." He lifts her out of his lap, and as soon as she takes the hint and stands, he rises to his feet so fast that he nearly knocks over the chair that is behind him - again. "I have something I must show you."

She's gaping now, watching him as he starts in the direction of the door. "Where are we going?" she asks, and hurries to catch up with him. "Hu - "

"You will see," he responds, and smiles, and refuses to tell her anything else, even when he boards the ship and whispers into Fourier's ear where they need to go. And the older Amarcian agrees, quite willingly - but for the entire length of their trip, she takes it upon herself to lecture Hubert about the inappropriateness of "knocking up" her younger sister, and on a military expedition no less. He listens and nods along because he knows she's right, but Pascal is by his side, one of her hands grasped within his own, so he's entirely too happy to care.

* * *

"Wow..."

"I thought that might be your reaction."

Pascal stands on the beach of what was once their island - now Thetis, the military headquarters for the Sol Islands - and gapes at the scenery that stretches before them, her amber eyes wide and mouth agape. Hubert watches her for a moment, chuckling, before turning his attention to the scene as well. Although he's been told what to expect, he is seeing this for the first time, too, and he has to admit that things have changed quite quickly. Multiple buildings are under construction, some nearing completion already, all clustered around the center of the island and a safe distance from the shore. There are two tall buildings in front of them, both meant to house soldiers, and smaller structures on either side. On the other side of the island there are other buildings, one of which will become a research laboratory and another - supposedly near completion - the military headquarters. "I can't believe they got all this done in just a couple weeks," Pascal remarks. "You guys move fast, huh?"

"Once Mr. Paradine makes up his mind about something, he expects immediate results," Hubert remarks. He glances over his shoulder at Fourier, standing near the shore with her ship and pretending not to be interested, and nods at her. "Would you excuse us for a moment?" he asks.

She lifts an eyebrow. "Are you going somewhere?"

"Just a few steps away. I would like to speak to Pascal in private."

"Ugh. Fine." She crosses her arms stiffly across her chest. "But no funny business. If what the two of you apparently did the _last_ time you were on this island is any indication - "

"Sis," Pascal interrupts, blushing, "_please_."

"We will be right back," Hubert says, glad for the younger Amarcian's interruption, and practically drags her by one hand away from Fourier. He waits until they are a safe distance away, closer to the construction in front of the trees, to speak again; even though he doubts she can hear them now, he still speaks in a voice as low as possible. "For the record," he murmurs, "I do not regret doing such a thing."

Pascal raises her eyes reluctantly to his. "Even though it ended up with me being... um... you know... like this?"

"_Especially_ because of that."

"H - Hu, what..."

"I had dreams of one day marrying you - of raising a family with you." He sighs softly. "If this is not what you want, I understand. But I brought you here to show you this - " He sweeps one arm out before them, gesturing to the buildings. " - and to ask you a question about your own dreams."

"My own dreams...?" she echoes him, tilting her head slightly to one side. "What do you mean?"

"I want..." He takes a breath. "I want you to live here with me."

"Live here...?" Her eyes go wide. "On - on the island?"

"My transfer is effective today. I am to take my position as colonel of the Sol Islands military, eradication, and development forces. As such, this - " He gestures to the small building under construction directly in front of them. " - will be my home. I will be sleeping in a tent for a few weeks as I await the completion of construction, but..." He moves on the sand until he can face her, hoping she doesn't say no, hoping she doesn't reject him. "I asked you to come here because I believed that one day you would allow me to make things right - that you would allow me to make your dreams finally come true."

"H - Hu, what are you..."

"I wish for you to stay with me. That is all. You would be under no obligation to Strahta, or to any other country. If you requested the right to participate in the research on Amarcia Isle, I would grant it willingly. You would be able to come and go as you pleased, and I would not ask about your activities elsewhere. I would not even ask for your hand in marriage, if you did not want to marry me. I only - " He swallows, and his voice is suddenly unsteady and he is sure he is going to cry, that the sadness and despair that he has been fighting for the last two months has caught up with him again, but he can't rest until he tells her his feelings. "I only wish to live by your side. I want to be part of my child's life. And you must want the same thing, Pascal. I remember what you told me. You said you wanted to stay here on the island, and now I can give you that. I will give you anything - I will give you the world, just as long as you stay."

"Oh..."

"I will never take you for granted again. I will never hurt you. I promise." He reaches for her hands and grips them tight between his own, bowing his head. "Please stay with me. _Please_. I will beg you on my knees if I must, but I cannot live another day without you by my side."

There's silence between them, and Hubert feels tears burning behind his eyes; he is desperate and lonely and loves her more than his own life, and he cannot bear the thought of losing this one final chance to be with her, to spend his days with her -

"Hey." Pascal's voice is soft, and he feels her gently turning her hands over in his, pressing her palms carefully to his own before their fingers twine together, and the sensation is natural and familiar, as if there was never a period of nine long weeks between the last touch of her hands to his. "Is it..." She pauses, and laughs uncomfortably. "Is it too late to go back on that stupid thing I said about not getting married...?"

"No._ No_, of course not."

"Really?" There's a breathless edge to her voice now, and when he looks up he sees that she is trembling. "I - I thought you'd tell me to forget it - "

"I bought you a ring." At this comment she freezes, mouth agape, and then all at once she chokes back a sob, tears gathering in her amber eyes, and Hubert can't hold back his own tears either, because he's happy, he's so damned _happy_, and if she says yes again he'll finally have exactly what he wants, what he's been waiting for - "I had to believe," he continues, "that you would come back. I didn't know when, or how, but I was willing to believe that you would give me the chance to make things right again. You said that you wanted to live here, on this island, with me. And I had to believe that someday, you would allow me to make that wish into reality for you - "

He doesn't get any further because Pascal's crying now, sobbing out loud, and he sees Fourier turn to look at them, alarmed by the sound, but the younger Amarcian notices and lifts one hand to wave her sister off, the other reaching up to wipe tears from her cheeks. "I'm an idiot," she cries, "I'm such a - a stupid idiot, Hu - I don't deserve you, or this, or - why would you do this, just for_ me_ - !"

"Because I'm a bigger idiot than you are, and I love you, Pascal." Tears cloud his vision and he casually wipes them away, and his voice is to the point of cracking now but he's so far past caring about that anymore. "Please tell me that you'll stay. Please forgive me. Tell me that you will make me the happiest man in the world."

"Do you really expect me to say no?" She laughs through her tears, and before he can react she throws her arms around his shoulders so hard that he falls over. They go tumbling to the sand together, and this time Fourier comes marching right over, but it doesn't matter - not one bit - because Pascal is laughing and crying, and then Hubert starts to laugh, and there they are, a pair of idiots sobbing and laughing over each other on the beach. "Let's get married, okay?" she says, and bends over him, burying her face in the front of his military uniform. "Please?"

"That," he returns, and reaches up to ruffle her hair, "is supposed to be my question."

Fourier arrives beside them and takes one look at the way they're sprawled out together on the sand, and she sighs loudly, shaking her head. "You two idiots are perfect for each other," she comments, and shrugs. "If you want to get married, be my guest. But_ don't_ ask me to babysit."

"We won't," they chorus, and then they start to laugh again, holding each other tight, and even when Fourier groans and shakes her head at them again they don't bother to stop.

* * *

Two hours later Hubert is in Pascal's room in the Amarcian enclave, sitting on the edge of her bed and watching her scurry from one side of the room to the other, back and forth, tossing things haphazardly into two large bags. "Are you absolutely certain about this?" he asks her, wondering to himself if she should be running around so much in her - condition. "I am not sure how long it will take for the construction on my - _our_ home to be completed, and I am not entirely comfortable with the thought of you living out of a tent for several weeks."

"Yeah, 'cause living out of a broken ship was so much worse, right?"

He sighs. "I am also told that the water purification system is still not functioning as it should. Very few people will be living on the island until it is able to produce clean water for bathing and drinking at the appropriate volume. If it stops working, we will need to return to Yu Liberte, and then..." He suppresses a groan. "... my father will learn the truth about everything, when I find it necessary for us to move into the manor."

"Then I'll just have to fix the system," she answers, grinning, and tosses a book over her shoulder into one of the bags on the floor. "I'm still amazed that somebody managed to figure it out even that well. Did you guys get an Amarcian to look at it or something?"

"My understanding is that Poisson made one attempt to decipher a certain someone's sloppy handwriting."

"If the problem is volume, then she probably missed the holding tank step..." She pauses with another book in her hands, tapping the spine to her chin. "That or the water's being over-filtered, which means there's clean water being trapped with the salt and sediment, so maybe the right kind of screen isn't being used - "

"Pascal," he speaks up, biting back a smile, "later."

"Oh! Right." She tosses the book into her bag, then plants her hands on her hips and turns to face him. "That should do it for now. I'll have to come back a little later to get the rest, since I have like a hundred more books I want to bring with me, and all my notes, and - " She looks around at the piles of books, gadgets, and loose sheets of paper on the floor, wrinkling her nose. "... and gosh, I never realized how messy it got in here while I was moping. I mean, I'm not a neat freak like Fourier, but _sheesh_. You see what you did to me?"

"It looks no worse than the last time I saw it."

"The last time you saw it was right after I realized I was in love with you, so I was totally wrecked in the head then, too." She laughs, bending to tie both the bags closed, and when she's finished she crosses the room to her bed and flops down beside him. The daisy tucked behind her ear finally comes loose, and when it falls into her lap she smiles, spinning the stem around in her fingers. "I really am, though," she says.

He blinks. "What?"

"You asked if I was sure about this. And I really am." She turns her smile on him. "Do you have any idea how much I missed you, Hu? All I did for the first two weeks away from you was cry. And then I got mad, and I broke the communicator, and then I stormed around my room pulling books off the shelves and breaking all the gadgets I made that reminded me of you, which was actually a lot of them. And_ then_ I started to feel a little better, especially because Poisson was checking in on me. But - " She laughs, lifting a hand to brush hair out of her eyes. " - I started thinking of you again. And I wanted to be with you. I wanted to hug you, and kiss you, and tell you I loved you, and even do _other_ stuff, but you weren't here and I thought you were mad at me, or that you didn't want to be around me. So when I got upset again, I just... left. I got up and I started wandering around Fendel. I know I was stupid for not eating, but I felt weird. And then when Captain found me and dragged me to the hospital, and the doctor told me I was... um, you know... and then I saw your messages..."

He leans over and stretches an arm around her shoulders, pulling her tight against him. "I just," she continues, placing her head against his shoulder, "knew I had to be with you again. I know we were only together for a little while on the island, and I know you've loved me a lot longer than I've loved you, but none of that matters. I want this. I want _you_. I want to be the best researcher and scientist and Amarcian in the world, but I also want to marry you, and I want to be a good mother. And - " She draws in a breath, laughing quietly. "... and that feels so weird to say. Fourier was so mad at me when I told her..."

"Is she going to be fine with you leaving?"

"Yeah. She'll be okay. Captain said he'll see to that." She grins. "I think he's got a thing for her. Who woulda thought?"

"If you are absolutely certain that this is what you want..." Hubert bends to press a kiss to her forehead. "Then we will go. We will have to inform Mr. Paradine that you are to be staying with me, but I doubt that he will mind, as long as you agree not to leak Strahtan military secrets to Fendel."

"Whatever. As if I care about_ that_ stuff."

" - and," he continues, and this time the kiss is placed on her lips, causing a long pause between the halves of his sentence, "as long as you agree to become my wife."

"I already agreed!"

"Not formally," he says, and reaches out to press a small velvet box into her hands. She gapes at it, then at him, then at the box again - and then her eyes light up and she laughs. Before he can say anything else she throws her arms around him, tackling him to the bed, and kisses him hard until they both run out of breath. "You haven't even looked at it," he protests, but she mumbles something that sounds like "shut up, I'll look at it later" before kissing him again, over and over, and that's all the convincing he needs.

"I missed you," he murmurs into her hair a few minutes later, one of his hands on the back of her neck, "I missed this, I - Pascal, I cannot imagine a life without you anymore. If you have any doubts - "

"I don't," she cuts him off, bending over him, fiddling with his collar, "but do you? Are you sure you wanna marry me? Are you really sure you're up for the challenge, huh? I am going to drive you so crazy that you won't know what to do with yourself."

"I want that," he says, and means it. "I want you."

"But - I just can't figure it out, I mean - " She blinks down at him. "Why _me_? I annoy you half to death, and you have to think I'm nuts, and - seriously, Hu, I went and got pregnant before we got married. I thought you'd be pissed about that for sure."

"That isn't _your_ fault," he chuckles.

"Seriously though - "

"You may be crazy, and you may be impossible to handle, but I still love you. And I have no doubts any longer." He strokes one of her cheeks. "There is no one else in this world who would love me more than all the stars in the sky, and no one else in this world that I would love more than life itself. I missed you when you were gone because you are part of me. Without you, I cannot be myself." He exhales, smiling up at her, and when she returns his smile he doesn't even have to hear her say it's the same for her, because he already knows. He knows, and he will always know, for the rest of his life, that they love each other and are meant to be together - the two of them and their son or daughter, the family they've always wanted.

"Hu," she sighs, and shakes her head at him, "you have gotta be the craziest person on Ephinea if you're willing to go through with this."

He chuckles again. "I would like to think I'm the luckiest."

"You are _such_ a sap," she laughs, and kisses him, and it's perfect, finally, and will always be this way.


	10. epilogue - today we had love

**islands in the sea  
**epilogue -_ today we had love_

* * *

What started with a knock on the door of his office ended up changing his life.

Every day that he wakes up to sunshine, the salty smell of the ocean in the air, and a tangle of red and white hair on the pillow beside him is like something out of a dream. In the year that has passed since moving to the island, not once has Hubert risen out of his bed in a bad mood.

Most days are the same, and he doesn't mind that. He enjoys the routine because it's a better one than he had before - a routine that had left him alone and miserable in the Oswell manor or tied down to his desk in the city. Now he rises automatically shortly after dawn, pressing a kiss to his wife's cheek or forehead before leaving their bedroom. He bathes, dresses, and combs his hair, and by the time he is finished and goes to the kitchen for breakfast, Pascal is out of bed - though not usually fully awake - and feeding the baby. They have breakfast together and then he's off to work, walking half a mile through the sand along the coastline until he arrives at the military base on the other side of the island.

As colonel, he never sits still. There is always something to do: the Sol Islands military force is an almost entirely mobile unit, and they assist with a variety of tasks both inside and outside of Strahta. They go to the mainland to eradicate newly discovered nests of vicious monsters, assist with the construction of housing on other islands, accompany important visitors to and from their destinations on each of the isles, and occasionally travel to Fendel or Windor to help with their own military efforts. Hubert also overlooks the research and development that occurs within the laboratory on Thetis, now populated by a handful of engineers and Amarcians - but they are in good hands without him, considering that a certain Mrs. Oswell has become the director of laboratory operations.

He works until the afternoon and comes home about an hour before Pascal, who arrives shortly after him with their daughter in a sling on her back or cradled in the crook of one arm. He's not sure exactly how she persuaded Dylan Paradine to allow her to take their child to work with her, but he thinks the president - and probably half of Strahta, for that matter - would do _anything_ for the sake of Tessa Oswell. Their little girl is only four months old and already well-known, and every time Hubert ventures back into Yu Liberte, crowds gather to see the child who is expected to one day be nothing less than a prodigy, "just like her parents."

They spend their evenings together, eating dinner, relaxing, and occasionally seeing guests. Malik and Fourier visit almost every week, first separately and then together; Fourier always claims this is because it's convenient and pretends not to notice the enormous grin on Malik's face. Poisson is also a frequent visitor, and Asbel, Cheria, and Sophie come once a month, recently for the sole purpose of fawning over the baby. Garrett Oswell eventually visits, too - reluctantly - but he is surprisingly polite and apparently impressed by the life his adopted son has made for himself, and ends up as charmed by Tessa's bright amber eyes and happy, toothless smile as the rest of the world.

Marriage and motherhood haven't changed Pascal very much; she's perhaps a bit neater, especially when it comes to Tessa's things, and when the baby is napping she's careful not to raise her voice, but she's otherwise the same lively, spontaneous, and insanely intelligent woman Hubert fell in love with years before. If anyone has changed, it's him: he's loosened up, learned to relax, and has even made attempts to change his rigid and occasionally cold manner of speaking. His soldiers sometimes comment that he's a new man, thanks to his wife, and he doesn't bother to deny it. He barely even remembers what his life was like before Pascal came into it. It was much more quiet, certainly... but it was also dull and boring, and he hadn't been happy.

He wouldn't trade the world for this, he thinks, sitting up in bed on the first anniversary of his move to the island. Sunshine is creeping in through the windows and he hears the faint sound of birds chirping in the trees behind the house. Pascal is beside him with their daughter cradled in her arms, both of them sleeping soundly, unaware that a new day is beginning. Hubert watches them sleep and smiles, and he's glad that it was her he'd been stranded with - that it will always be her by his side, that he will never lose her again, come hell or high water. No matter what happens they will always be together, at home on their little island in the middle of the sea.

* * *

**author's note: **I can't believe I finished it! Oh, man. When I first got this idea I didn't think I would finish it, but I saw it through to the end and now here we are. After the futatsu boshi series I really thought I was done writing hupasu chapterfics, but nope... /laugh

I want to say thanks to everybody who's been reading this series. Some of you have left me reviews after every chapter, and I can't even begin to explain how much that means to me. And for you silent readers, pipe up and lemme know what you thought, yeah? This thing was torture, and I'm so glad it's over, but I'm even more glad to see that so many people have been enjoying it.

I'd like to dedicate this fic to my friend Elle, because she's awesome. You all have her to thank for harassing me constantly about islands, trying to get me to finish it so I'll go back to writing her delicious MalikxFourier smut... ;)

Thanks for reading, and see you next time!


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